


Aesop's Kin

by Reijin_Hakumei



Category: Bleach, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Hogwarts House Sorting, Bleach Canon Compliant, F/M, Harry Potter Canon Divergence - Freeform, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), M/M, Reincarnated Ulquiorra Cifer, Ulquiorra is Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25095094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reijin_Hakumei/pseuds/Reijin_Hakumei
Summary: Harry Potter is haunted in his dreams by memories that are both his and not his.  A life ended in the wrong way, enemies that became family, family that became enemies, and a heart kept safe throughout long years.Excerpt:There was no heart here.Dreams that felt like memories…Green light and long ginger hair…Crying…Or was that him?He felt like he had finally understood something, only to have it disappear, fade before his eyes…Or was it he that had faded?It was odd… These half-memories.  It was almost more like a feeling, like a knowledge he just had but could not recall obtaining.He didn’t feel alone in those memories, evanescent though they were.There was heart there.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Hitsugaya Toushirou, Kurosaki Kazui/Luna Lovegood, Ulquiorra Cifer/Hitsugaya Toushirou
Comments: 77
Kudos: 187





	1. In Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JKRobertson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JKRobertson/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excerpts from the manga of Bleach as well as the song 'In Dreams' by Ben Howard. You can click at the beginning of the song for a video of it performed live by Ben Howard.
> 
> I've very excited to be doing this fic. Special shout out to Quill who helped me bounce ideas for several hours! You're the best! If you want more, please leave a review and let me know how I did!

[ _Always a riddle in the world, she says..._ ](https://youtu.be/nqeYrWaynyc?t=14)

_Always a riddle inside my head..._

_Always a thing to wonder the way we come to be._

_In dreams I have watched it spin..._

_Seen the violent crack of atoms where all light comes in..._

_In dreams I have lain in sin..._

_Just to be the cracked and the cared for..._

_In dreams I saw Aesop's kin..._

_Just a carcass of a man, I belong inside his skin..._

_Where to..._

_Where to begin?_

* * *

“Ugh!!!” Ishida cried out as Ulquiorra pulled Zangetsu from his body, blood spraying red upon the white columns he was collapsed against. Ulquiorra threw the black zanpakuto to stand, embedded before the just regenerated and now sane Ichigo.

“Take it,” Ulquiorra commanded, “Let’s finish this.”

Ichigo hesitated, instead a question, faltering, falling from his lips, “...Did I… ...Attack Ishida…?”

Ulquiorra looked away, perplexed though his face remained passive as he answered, “Don’t ask me.”

Ichigo continued his questioning, his voice a bit more confident, “Am I the one… ...who cut off your arm and leg?”

Ulquiorra looked back, his eyes, golden irises surrounded by emerald green sclera, locking with warm amber. So human, when moments ago they had been just as gold, the sclera black, just as hollow as his own. 

The look was confirmation enough.

“Then, cut off my arm and leg too.”

“Kurosaki!” Inoue cried out in panic. Ulquiorra’s eyes widened but otherwise remained unaffected at the request.

Ichigo continued, explaining in a pained voice, “That wasn’t me fighting you. That was my hollow form. I had no control over it.” He sighed before passionately exclaiming, “If you want to settle this, it won’t be fair unless we’re in the same condition!”

Ulquiorra’s eyes narrowed, understanding flashing within.

“Kurosaki…!” Ishida called out through the pain throbbing from where he had been run through, trying to get him to see reason. Afterall, before his hollow overtook him, he had _died_ by Ulquiorra’s hand. “Do you… realize what you’re saying...!? Kurosaki…!!”

Ichigo did not flinch, did not move, only kept his eyes locked with Ulquiorra.

Ulquiorra turned, “...All right. ...If that’s what you want.”

However, as he made to move forward, he found himself unable to. Shock took over his body, his hollow eyes widening in realization, even as his black, bat-like wings slowly began disintegrating to ash.

Ichigo realized something was obviously wrong, his face showing complete shock at the other as he watched those powerful wings break apart, particles dispersed by the passing breeze.

“...Hmph! ...I guess that’s it for me.”

Ulquiorra’s eyes pulled away from his wings to Ichigo’s eyes once again. So human. Trash. But perhaps better than…

“Kill me.”

Ichigo couldn’t move, his mind not comprehending what was occurring before him.

“Hurry up,” Ulquiorra demanded, “I don’t even have the strength left to walk… If you don’t kill me now, it will never be over…”

Ichigo gritted his teeth before forcing out, “...I won’t do it.”

“...What?” Ulquiorra questioned, his emotionless voice barely above a whisper.

“...I said no…! This… This isn’t the way I wanted to win!!!” Ichigo yelled, his voice tortured, at who none of them knew.

Hollow eyes widened before looking away, resigned. “...Hmph… ...Even in the end… You never do what I want.”

Those eyes, so haunting, so inhuman, came to rest on Inoue. He supposed it was fitting that his last words would be for her, the only one who tried to explain to him what it was like to have emotions, to feel for another. As he looked into those honey brown eyes, he knew he wasn’t imagining the care and sorrow he found there. Even after all he had done. How could she possibly care for him?

“...I’m finally starting to find you guys a little interesting,” Ulquiorra admitted as he reached out to her. “...Are you scared of me, Onna?”

Inoue’s lips parted in shock before her eyes softened in dismay, understanding that this would be the last words he would ever hear. She dared not hold back the honest words that spilled from her lips, true even despite the horror he had caused her, “I’m not scared.”

“I see,” Ulquiorra whispered, as thoughts sifted through his fogging mind, as his eyesight began to blur.

_Those faint… Final words…_

_What is that?_

_What would I see if I cracked open your chest? If I broke open your skull, what would I see inside?_

_You humans say the word so easily._

_Just like -_

Inoue ran to him, tears slipping from her large eyes, her feet moving on their own, her hand reaching out to take his one last time.

And passing through nothing but ash.

_Oh, I get it._

_This is it._

_This here in my hand._

_The heart._

* * *

_I may be troubled…_

_But I’m gracious in defeat…_

* * *

_Heart isn’t something inside you._

_But whenever you think, whenever you remember someone, that’s when heart is born._

_If you were the only one alive in the whole world, heart wouldn't exist, now would it?_

_When we die, our bodies disintegrate and become part of the reishi…_

_And when that time comes, where does your heart go?_

_It gets passed on to your nakama. If you pass it on to them, then your heart... will always live on within them._

_That’s why… You must never, ever, ever..._

_Die alone._

* * *

_I live alone…_

_I live a lonely life without you…_

* * *

There was no heart here.

Dreams that felt like memories… 

Green light and long ginger hair… 

Crying…

Or was that him?

He felt like he had finally understood something, only to have it disappear, fade before his eyes…

Or was it he that had faded?

It was odd… These half-memories. It was almost more like a feeling, like a knowledge he just had but could not recall obtaining.

He didn’t feel alone in those memories, evanescent though they were.

There was heart there.

Unlike here.

His aunt and uncle despised him, feared him, were disgusted by him. He was Freak to them. And they had taught their son well.

He wanted not to listen. He wanted to believe he wasn’t what they thought he was.

Except… 

His teacher’s wig had turned blue, after he had a passing feeling that he reminded him of someone, that blue hair would suit him more.

One of his handed-down sweaters from his whale of a cousin had shrunk to actually fit him after he fretted about first impressions on his first day of school.

Once, when his cousin and his gang were chasing him, they had managed to corner him. Except, the next step he took had him stepping onto the roof, well out of their reach.

His aunt, fed up with his long, shaggy black hair, had tried to cut it with the kitchen scissors. It was dreadful and he had fretted over being even further mocked at school the next day. But when he woke up, his hair was its usual length, as if no scissors had ever come near it.

Come to think of it, he never needed to cut his hair. It always remained the same. Long, inky-black stands grazing his shoulders and long bangs that fell into his emerald green eyes, concealing the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

The scar that still looked freshly carved into his skin, even today, after never knowing a day without it. It never faded. And sometimes, in his dreams, it would burn. Those nights, he would hear screaming and awaken in pain.

Not that his days brought much relief.

His teachers said that families loved each other, took care of each other, and that children were to be provided for. By that definition, he understood that this could not be his family. He had one once, perhaps more than once, in his dreams…

But these people only gave that which they no longer wanted. Only spoke with malance. Found joy in his pain, in his suffering, in his servitude. Some of that felt familiar too, like an old cloak he could don when needed, though it felt claustrophobic and harsh against his skin.

However his small body was a bit of a problem for the role. He wasn’t always strong enough, coordinated enough, to do as asked of him. That’s when his uncle would lock him away in his cupboard, sometimes for several days, until his aunt became ‘too overworked’ doing the daily housekeeping on her own and released the locks. 

Mostly, during this time, he missed the library. His books were his only bright spot within this existence. Losing himself within their pages, he could feel such emotions as joy, peace, belonging. Emotions that were out of reach in his reality. He dared not bring any… to this place. He could never call this home. Without his escape all he was left with was four too-close walls, a slanted ceiling that he both hoped and feared to outgrow, a threadbare blanket upon a thin mattress that may as well have been the floor, and the spiders he fancied as friends. Though occasionally they bit him and he wouldn’t talk to them for a while.

And the cycle would repeat. 

The starvation he suffered felt familiar too, like it was normal to be constantly hungry and odd to feel full. He could deal with that, and being locked away meant his cousin could also not reach him. The brute’s punches felt like nothing to him, even as his fragile body bruised and broke. However, in the morning, not a trace would remain, something he was thankful his uncle never noticed.

Because, so far, his uncle had only isolated him. He had not laid a hand on him himself, content to let his son beat him instead. He didn’t want calls from school, after all.

Except, he had burnt his hand making dinner the previous night. Badly. He had not been able to conceal it as his aunt had to handle the dishes, his hand not being able to grasp them. His uncle, rather than take him to the hospital, had sent him to his cupboard. It was mid-morning the following day when he reopened it.

And his hand was completely healed.

His uncle harshly grasped his wrist as he turned the hand over, nothing but flawless pale skin, inspecting. He got a look in his eyes that the young boy hadn’t seen before, a crazed sort of hysteria combined with rage and in that moment he knew that his years of his uncle not being physical with him were over.

He couldn’t allow that.

And really, enough had been enough for some time now.

His other finger raised, the motion practiced and sure though he could not recall why, familiar green light collecting at the tip. His uncle's eyes widened and for a moment fear overwhelmed the rage there.

And then he was gone. 

His body completely vaporized in a blast of sickly-green light, and half of sleepy, normal Privet Drive with it. He was unsure of his aunt and cousin. Had they been in the living room, they were certainly no more. However they could have easily been away, he had no way of knowing at this moment. It did not matter though, one murder or three, even on accident. And probably more, unless their neighbor’s homes were empty.

Mrs. Figg never left, to his knowledge. Although he didn’t exactly mourn for her either. She seemed to go out of his way to make him even more miserable whenever she minded him while his relatives went on vacation.

But he knew this would have consequences. Consequences that, at seven, he wasn’t willing to face. He refused to be taken to some home, to add instability to his misery. And besides, surely no one would look for him? Wouldn’t they assume he had died here as well, caught in the blast?

He needed only to leave.

But to where?

The image of honey brown eyes, brimming with unshed tears, care and sorrow, long ginger hair flowing freely, and one hand clenched to her breast.

_“I’m not scared.”_

He raised a hand, not quite understanding but as sure as before when he had called forth the green light. Space tore before him, uneven and segmented but wide enough to walk through. The scene beyond the tear was not the ruins of Privet Drive, but instead shocked honey brown eyes, filled with disbelief and reluctant recognition, long ginger hair tied back low, and one hand pressed against her breast.

She was older than the woman from his dreams but there was not doubt she was the same. Without a second glance, motions measured but sure, emerald green eyes locked onto hers, the boy stepped through the tear into another family room. The tear closed silently behind him, unnoticed for he only had eyes for her. This person that haunted his dreams, she was real.

What else had been?

He reached out to her, caught between past and present, “...Are you scared of me, Onna?”

A smile broke apart the shock on her face, her eyes softened with overwhelming warmth and joy as she breathed out, “I’m not scared.”

She reached for his out-stretched hand. And this time, she enclosed it within her own. She pulled him to her, embracing his small form. Small hands grasped at the folds in her dress and the boy just allowed himself to be held, to be cared for. And he felt… warm. 

The heart.

It was still here.

Safe.


	2. Belling the Cat

_Long ago, the mice had a general council to consider what measures they could take to outwit their common enemy, the Cat._

_Some said this, and some said that; but at last a young mouse got up and said he had a proposal to make, which he thought would meet the case._

_"You will all agree," said he, "that our chief danger consists in the sly and treacherous manner in which the enemy approaches us. Now, if we could receive some signal of her approach, we could easily escape from her. I venture, therefore, to propose that a small bell be procured, and attached by a ribbon round the neck of the Cat. By this means we should always know when she was about, and could easily retire while she was in the neighborhood."_

_This proposal met with general applause, until an old mouse got up and said:_

_"That is all very well, but who is to bell the Cat?"_

_The mice looked at one another and nobody spoke. Then the old mouse said:_

_"It is easy to propose impossible remedies."_

* * *

Feet clothed in tabi and wearing waraji delicately balanced atop the trapezoidal prism that made the top of the lamp posts of Privet Drive, careful of the spike centered at the top. A black shihakusho blended in with the night though the feathered locks of winter white hair and the stark white haori shone brightly in the lamp light. Teal eyes swept the street. The houses were disturbingly identical - two storied, light bricking, dark brown shingles, and chimneys, all protruding from the same left corner. He wondered if it was difficult at all for their owners to remember which house was their own.

From the reports of the damage this street had suffered merely twelve hours ago, to see it in pristine condition was jarring. These wizards really were something. It had taken _10 years_ to repair the Seireitei. Granted, the Seireitei was also the size of a country, but still, the speed at which they responded, fixed the physical damage, and modified the memories of the muggles here was astounding. 

It was also annoying as the lingering saturation of the Ministry team’s magic made it difficult for the young Captain to pick out the faint traces of reiatsu. The blast had originated from Number 4, so perhaps it would be prudent to get a closer look.

He used shunpo to appear before the door and simply passed through it. No one was home, nor would any be until the property sold as the entire family that had lived here was reported to be among the deceased. Shinigami had not been necessary to perform konso, the muggles of this dreary suburban street passing on without aid, almost relieved to be rid of such a boring life. It was unfortunate, in a way, since there were no lingering souls left for him to question. Perhaps they will find more joy in the next, though that was not his concern. 

His concern was the fact that the damage had been done by a cero.

He inspected the house, finding traces of what could only be Espada reiatsu. It was unique, a mixture of shinigami and hollow, though this signature also had something else about it he was unfamiliar with. He came to a door along the staircase where the concentration of the peculiar energy seemed the strongest and carefully opened the door.

Teal eyes narrowed at the site that met them. A small, thin mattress had been shoved into the back of the cupboard against the slanted ceiling created by the slope of the stairs above. An old, worn dresser stood opposite, some drawers missing and some not pushed in correctly. He tugged one out, with considerable effort, and found only thin, worn, and very large children’s clothing within. 

A few broken toys were scattered about the floor and there were several cobwebs in the upper corners of the room. The bed had a single, thin blanket that looked far too small, even for the small mattress, and the pillow and sheets looked stained with old blood. He stepped out to take a closer look at the door, noting several locks on the outside as well as a grate that could be opened or closed from the front. 

This cupboard had clearly been used as a bedroom of sorts, though it appeared like it was more of a cell. And it was saturated in that odd reiatsu. He went back in, having to tilt his head slightly at the slanted ceiling even at his height, before sitting upon the floor in a seiza posture and meditating.

His inner world was as frozen and bleak as ever, shifting snows drifted by the wind, a blizzard swirling around him.

“You are troubled, Master,” came the rumbling, deep voice of his zanpakuto spirit behind him. The dragon’s tail curled around him as the beast settled next to him, sheltering him from the storm.

“Yes, Hyourinmaru. This scene disturbs me greatly, including what it likely means.”

“Explain.”

“The reiatsu is strong and untrained, much like my own was before Rangiku convinced me to join the academy. Also, indicating from the items found in the room, this individual is a child, one that was severely abused. There is clearly a hollow taint to the signature as well, which I do not know what to make of. It feels like an Arrancar, an Espada even, but this was clearly a human child - no regular muggle family could possibly lock up an actual hollow in this way. The facts don’t add up.”

“What are your options from here?”

The storm was dying down slightly as his mind contemplated the actions available to him, no longer dwelling on the distressing scene he had found, instead working to move forward.

“I should get in contact with the remaining Espada. I will take with some of these items, the ones that are most soaked through with the strange reiatsu, and see if any can identify it. I doubt they will, but I see no other leads. However, that means traveling to Hueco Mundo… Or perhaps I can make use of a mutual acquaintance…”

His path clear, the blizzard broke completely, snow drifting lazily from the sky. Large red eyes peered down at him and closed as he caressed the long snout of the dragon, murmuring, “Thank you, Hyourinmaru.”

Red eyes opened again before large wings buffeted the air, carrying the dragon aloft into the calm night, stars breaking through the fading clouds above. He smiled at the sight, allowing himself to drift away from his inner world. Teal eyes reopened to the depressing room and he immediately went into action, feeling out the items with the most lingering reiatsu. The blanket was an easy choice. It was a faded blue, almost gray in color. Turning it in his hands he noticed stitching in a corner, where the name Harry had been embroidered.

Perhaps the name of the child?

There was a book that looked well used and well cared for, despite the shape of the binding. It was entitled Aesop’s Fables and he couldn’t help the slight smile the book brought to his face. He had had a similar book when he was a child that his granny would read to him. She probably still had it. Perhaps he would visit her, after he had completed his mission.

He found a third object near the bed, this one a soft, stuffed bat. It was black with two large green eyes, though no nose or mouth had been stitched beneath, giving the toy a rather endearing expression of adorable innocence. It was broken, like all the toys in the room, with the left wing missing entirely, but it was soaked in that strange reiatsu so obviously the child had been fond of it.

Gathering the three items, he made his way to the living room, the only room large enough to summon the Senkaimon. It would be far faster to reach Japan by traveling to the Seireitei first and he was never one to waste time. He grasped Hyourinmaru in one hand, the other securely holding the items he had found. 

With a swipe of the blade the Senkaimon was summoned, wooden and paper doors parting before him, a Jigokucho fluttering through to guide his way. He returned his sword to his back and the butterfly alighted on his curled forefinger, wings beating slowly as he relayed his intent. It then took flight and he followed, the wooden slap of the Senkaimon echoing behind him as he left the despair of Number 4 Privet Drive behind.

* * *

“Orihime? Is that… Is that who I think it is?” Ichigo asked from beside the kitchen table. He had rapidly stood up at the sight of the Garganta, not especially concerned at first though usually Grimmjow only visited once a week at most and it had only been three days since his last visit. But instead of the blue-haired Espada, a small raven-haired boy had emerged. 

A boy with eerily familiar green eyes.

And then he spoke those words that haunted him still to this day and there wasn’t a doubt in Ichigo’s mind as to who exactly that little boy was.

Orihime was in tears, embracing the small boy tightly, too overwhelmed to answer him though they both knew.

“Mama, who is that?” Kazui’s curious voice came from the table. Thankfully the child was still seated. Ichigo honestly didn’t know why the other was here or what was going on. He didn’t _look_ all that dangerous but he wasn’t letting his guard down completely.

Afterall, Ulquiorra had been the strongest Espada he had ever faced.

Orihime seemed to regain herself a bit at her son’s question, wiping away her tears and smiling at him, “A very old, very dear friend, honey. Would you like to meet him?”

Ichigo privately panicked at his wife’s complete disregard for the danger that small body could potentially contain. He was also very confused about how she addressed him. Hadn’t he been her captor? 

She had released her embrace and the small boy had stepped back a little, tilting his head as he regarded her before asking, “We were friends, Onna?”

“Well,” she blushed, “I tried to be. You, you didn’t seem to want any and told me not to bother. But, everyone should have at least one friend, right Ulquiorra?”

Ichigo noticed both Renji and Rukia stiffen at the address, finally catching up to who this was. They watched the boy more warily now and Ichigo couldn’t blame them. Neither had directly engaged with Ulquiorra like he had, but they both had heard stories of what the Cuarto Espada was capable of. 

“Ulquiorra? Who is that?” the boy asked, frowning.

Orihime just looked confused as she responded, “Is that not your name?”

“I’m Harry Potter.”

It was his son that gasped and Kazui was out of his seat in an instant, immediately appearing at the started boy’s side. Honestly, shunpo at that distance was highly unnecessary, Ichigo lamented, even though he was proud of his son’s abilities. 

“Are you really Harry Potter?!” Kazui half asked - half shouted excitedly.

The smaller boy looked at him warily before nodding.

Kazui gave a little dance in excitement before daringly asking, “Can I see the scar?”

Ichigo had no idea what he meant but clearly the boy had figured it out. He lifted long, black bangs to reveal what was clearly a lightning bolt shaped scar, located high above his right, emerald green eye. Kazui gasped, and with all the sense of propriety his seven years of age afforded him, he reached forward with his small index finger and traced it. 

Green eyes narrowed at him even as Kazui whispered out, “That’s so cool!”

“Do you mind?” The smaller boy questioned.

Kazui seemed to come back to himself and blushed, stepping back before bowing low, saying, “Sorry! That was rude and I should have introduced myself, my name is Kazui Kurosaki!” His warm amber eyes glanced up at the other through his orange bangs and the smaller boy nodded at him in acknowledgement before reciprocating the motion, though his bow wasn’t nearly as deep and looked a fair bit awkward, like he was unused to the motion, “Harry Potter, it is nice to meet you, Kazui Kurosaki.”

Both boys rose out of the bows and curious green eyes looked at each of the adults in turn before Ichigo shook himself out of the very peculiar scene. “I’m Ichigo Kurosaki, Kazui’s father,” he said, feeling thoroughly odd about introducing himself for what felt like a second time. “The one you addressed as Onna is my wife, Orihime Kurosaki, Kazui’s mother. And this is Renji and Rukia Abarai, including their daughter, Ichika.” Each nodded as they were introduced. Ichika clearly looked like she wanted to join the other children but was remaining seated and proper under her parent’s watchful gaze. Perhaps there was a bit of Kuchiki in her after all, Ichigo mused.

“Can you tell us how you got here? What happened to you?” Orihime asked, crouching down to be eye level with the small boy.

“I’m not sure how I got here…” Harry admitted. “I don’t know why, but I see you all the time when I dream at night. I needed to escape and you were the only person I felt like I could go to. I wasn’t even sure you were real… I don’t know how I made the tear, I just somehow knew it was the only way I could find you. I… I did something terrible…” the boy admitted as his voice trailed off, his eyes unfocused and staring at a blank spot of the wall.

Ichigo frowned at the admission and said, “Perhaps we should all sit in the living room?” Just then his cell phone went off and he dug it out of his pocket, sighing when Kisuke Urahara’s name popped up on the screen. He answered it rather reluctantly, grateful to see Orihime ushering the boys to sit on the couch in the living room.

“What’s up hat-n’-clogs?” Ichigo asked, annoyed at the interruption.

“Ichigo! It’s probably nothing but I picked up a Garganta at your location. You having an Espada friend over?”

“You could say that…” Ichigo said.

“Anything wrong?”

“No, not really, I’ll call you if I need anything, thanks for checking on us,” Ichigo said quickly before hanging up. The last thing he needed right now was to deal with Urahara’s fascination over every odd occurrence that happened in his life. Although they would probably need to inform him eventually, he really didn’t want to do it right now. One confused, young human child that looked, sounded, and had the memories of Ulquiorra Cifer was enough to sort through.

“How did you know about my scar?” the boy, - Harry, Ichigo reminded himself, though it was difficult not to think of him as Ulquiorra - asked Kazui, his face showing confusion. That was another oddity, to see actual emotions on that face. This child was obviously different from the Espada he so much resembled, something Ichigo couldn’t help but be relieved about. He’d never understand what Orihime had seen in her former captor but this version he felt he could handle.

“It’s famous!” Kazui exclaimed, bouncing slightly on the couch cushion.

“Famous?”

“Yes, from when you defeated You-Know-Who!”

“I actually don’t know who you’re talking about.”

Kazui’s face fell, asking, “You don’t?”

“No.”

Kazui thought for a moment before springing off the couch, returning not ten seconds later with one of his school books. Ichigo felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. What did this have to do with the Wizarding World?

Kazui flipped through what seemed to be a history book until coming to a stop and giving the book to the other, pointing at something on the page as he said, “There! See? Look! You’re even in my school book!”

Green eyes furrowed as he read quickly, far more quickly than any other young child Ichigo had seen. Obviously he was well practiced at reading silently, something even Kazui still struggled with a bit, and Ichigo had taught him as early as he was able to. Ichigo loved books himself, especially Shakespere and classical English stories. He taught at a local college and hoped to pass that love on to his son. Kazui was already just as fluent in English as Japanese, something Ichigo continued to foster, taking every opportunity to speak to him in English so that he could continue to practice and utilize the language. 

“So my parents were murdered by this Lord Voldemort, who was somehow killed by me, and all I received was my scar?” Harry summarized, looking sceptical at the book in his lap.

“Yep!” Kazui confirmed cheerfully, small legs swinging and hitting the front of the couch before bouncing off and repeating the motion. The kid was always so full of energy, Ichigo thought fondly.

“Can I see?” Ichika asked, joining the other two and sitting on Harry’s other side on the couch.

Harry shrugged and passed her the book. She was a fast reader as well, Ichigo noticed, though that was to be expected if she was already making her way through the academy.

Harry looked over at Orihime who had taken an armchair off to the side and was simply watching the children, a fond smile on her face. “You called me a different name, Onna. What was it? Why do I remember you?” 

Ichigo walked over to her, gripping her shoulder before speaking, “Perhaps I can answer that. You see, we used to know someone, someone that looked just like you but older, far older. Anyway, this man’s name was Ulquiorra. That’s who Orihime thought you were.”

“Ulqui…” Kazui repeated, trying to sound out the foreign name correctly.

“Ulquiorra,” Orihime repeated for him gently.

“Ulqui…”

“Ulquiorra,” Harry said, not stumbling over the name at all. And then he added, his eyes a bit glazed over as if lost in thought, “Ulquiorra Cifer.”

“Ulqui is easier,” Kazui stated in a matter-of-fact way, smiling.

Harry shook his head, saying, “It sounds really familiar, like it was important to me, like I’ve forgotten now but it once meant a lot.”

“Reincarnation,” Renji stated, coming to stand next to Ichigo. “That’s the only thing that makes sense. Somehow he’s remembering bits and pieces of his former life. That’s very rare. Usually powerful souls, like Ulquiorra, are divided and reincarnate into several people. I’ve never heard of a case where a vasto lorde kept their entire soul intact after being reincarnated, which would have to be the case if he still has those memories.”

“He also clearly kept his hollow abilities,” Rukia added as she sat next to the children on the floor and inspected them. “I’ll look through the Kuchiki records, see if I can find anything. But I don’t think that this has happened before.”

“Well, he did die very oddly…” Ichigo admitted. 

Rukia glanced back at him, asking, “How so?”

“He just… Faded away… Turned to ash in front of us…”

“What do you mean?” Rukia asked with a frown. “You didn’t kill him with Zangetsu?”

“Kind of? Maybe? I did cut his mask with Zangetsu, but I’m pretty sure it was the cero that did the most damage…”

Renji and Rukia just stared at him as Orihime whispered, “But he had healed, he looked completely fine…”

“And then he just faded away,” Ichigo finished.

“Not all wounds can be mended…” Harry stated, lost in thought and just-out-of-reach memories.

“Perhaps you’re right,” Ichigo said. “In any case, he obviously has some of Ulquiorra’s powers as well as pieces of his memories. Where does that leave us?”

“I’m not sure,” Rukia stated with a frown. “He feels human, I don’t think we need to worry that he’ll attempt to devour human souls. I’m concerned though about what he said before. Harry?”

The boy turned to her, his face mostly free of expression, making his likeness to his former self even more striking. “You said you needed to escape? That you had done something terrible?”

There was an expression now, one of barely restrained fear. “My uncle, he, he was going to hurt me. I don’t know how I did it, I didn’t mean to, I was just so scared. I pointed at him and then there was a green light and he was gone. There was so much damage, not just to our house but to several others. I knew they’d send me to an orphanage if they found me and I just couldn’t let that happen.” 

Green eyes shifted to Orihime before continuing, “That’s when I thought of Onna. I just knew that I’d be safe here. So this is where I came.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Orihime exclaimed before rushing over to him and embracing him again. Ichigo smiled at her. She had such a big heart, and an infinite amount of kindness. To have impacted an Espada so deeply that he remembered that kindness into his next life - she really was amazing. 

And his son had inherited her kind heart it seemed.

“He can stay with us! Right mama? Papa?” Kazui questioned, looking excited. “I’ll look after him! I’ll be his big brother and protect him, just like you papa!”

Ichigo couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at that, smiling fondly at his son before saying gently, “We can’t just take him in like that.”

“Why not?” Kazui asked, those ridiculously large amber eyes staring back at him as his lips were pulled into a pout.

“Well, cause, he probably has some family we need to return him to…” Ichigo said, searching for a reason.

“No,” Harry said quietly, “Even if my aunt is still alive, I refuse to go back there.”

Everyone sobered a bit at that announcement.

“Ichigo,” Orihime said with a tremor in her voice, turning those large honey-brown eyes on him. When both his wife and son looked at him like that he already knew he had lost.

“I have no idea how to go about doing such a thing. And, if you’ll remember, apparently he’s famous in the Wizarding World. They’re going to find out eventually. It sounds like he’s a wizard himself. We’d have to enroll him in Kazui’s school -”

“Awesome!”

“- and you know they’ll know who he is immediately. This isn’t going to work.”

“Aren’t school records confidential?” Orihime asked.

“Um, well yes…”

“So even if they did know, why would that matter?”

“We could still be reported for kidnapping ‘Hime,” Ichigo said, trying to talk some sense into her.

“That’s ridiculous, he came to us. If anything, we should press charges against this aunt of his, he’s obviously frightened of returning. And we both know he’s not at fault for any of the damage he caused, Kazui was terribly destructive before learning to control his magic too, and he has a stable, loving environment. It seems a pretty clear case of accidental magic caused by severe emotional distress to me. We both know what that means.”

“Urahara could probably help get the proper paper trail for you…” Rukia added.

Ichigo groaned, “You’re not helping.”

Rukia shrugged, “Seems simple enough to me. Families take kids in all the time in Rukongai, I don’t understand what’s so difficult about this. Besides, who better to raise a kid with hollow powers?”

Well, she had a point there…

“Fine!” Ichigo said, relenting, “But one of you is explaining this whole mess to hat-n’-clogs.”

“I’ll do it,” Renji said with a grin. “And congratulations on your second son.”

Ichigo groaned again as Kazui exclaimed excitedly and hugged a very startled Harry Potter.

The smaller boy’s voice reached him easily though, asking, “You’ll really take me in? You won’t send me back there?” Ichigo was amazed at hearing the fragile hope in that young voice, still not used to the clear emotion being expressed.

He couldn’t resist, walking over to kneel next to his wife and taking a small hand into his own even as his son still held the small boy tightly. Those green eyes watched him carefully, recognition fading in and out, flickering between respect, fear, and longing. 

“Yes,” Ichigo said firmly, “You’ll be a part of our family now. If that’s what you want. It would probably be safer for you to take my last name, for me to adopt you if we’re able. I have a feeling it will be difficult to hold onto you otherwise, that someone would eventually try to take you from us. But the choice is yours.”

“Kurosaki?”

Ichigo nodded.

The small boy contemplated for a moment before coming to a decision, stating firmly, “Harry Ulquiorra Kurosaki.”

Ichigo smiled, “Welcome to our family, Harry Ulquiorra Kurosaki.”


	3. The Man and The Serpent

_A Countryman's son by accident trod upon a Serpent's tail, which turned and bit him so that he died._

_The father in a rage got his axe, and pursuing the Serpent, cut off part of its tail._

_So the Serpent in revenge began stinging several of the Farmer's cattle and caused him severe loss._

_Well, the Farmer thought it best to make it up with the Serpent, and brought food and honey to the mouth of its lair, and said to it: "Let's forget and forgive; perhaps you were right to punish my son, and take vengeance on my cattle, but surely I was right in trying to revenge him; now that we are both satisfied why should not we be friends again?"_

_"No, no," said the Serpent; "take away your gifts; you can never forget the death of your son, nor I the loss of my tail."_

* * *

He had been given a choice, technically. At least, Onna had offered. Orihime… Not Onna. It was difficult, for some reason. Habits he did not recall seemed even more persistent when in proximity to both her and her husband.

Kurosaki Ichigo… 

He felt a lot when faced with that man. More so than he had around any other. He could tell the other was very kind and yet he couldn’t help the fear that gripped his heart when those deep chocolate eyes caught his own bright emerald. Fear was not new to him, his relatives had cultivated enough of it, however this fear was baser, like an instinct. The other had done nothing to him and yet the feeling remained. The ghost of a memory, the damage long done, forgiven yet not forgotten.

And it was forgiven. He felt no hatred. Only respect, and peace. Those two feelings, along with the fear, combined in his fragile heart. It was confusing, to say the least. He didn’t know this man, yet he _did._

What an odd mixture of emotions to hold for your murderer.

Harry was far more observant than most children, and he had learned long ago to listen between the lines. Their half-conversation was more than enough, he understood what they believed had happened, although none had really explained. Reincarnation was real, and his soul somehow remembered. He had known these people... 

...Before.

Orihime had been his friend… 

And Ichigo had killed him… 

...Sort of.

He wasn’t sure what to do with that. But it was obvious in Ichigo’s motions, expressions, and words that the experience haunted him still. Haunted him enough to feel responsible, to open his home to him. 

And Harry trusted him.

A feeling he couldn’t remember really ever having for another. Somehow he knew, when Ichigo gave his word, he kept it. 

Simple. 

And then flooded in... 

...gratitude.

...relief.

...hope.

The fear was still there, hanging over and between them. It was instinctual, pervasive, and the only thing that truly bothered him. 

So that was Ichigo. Fear, respect, peace, trust, gratitude, relief, and hope. Harry was not really equipped to deal with the potent, conflicting, tangle of emotions, and so he avoided those warm brown eyes. Ichigo seemed to understand and mostly kept his distance, though he remained present and supportive, if a bit concerned. 

Orihime was not much easier. Not because of what he felt for her. That was simple. He felt warmth, acceptance, and a fragile trust. She too kept her word, had kept the heart entrusted to her, all those years ago. 

But he could see a tumultuous mix of emotions dance behind those honey brown eyes, just as confused and potent as the emotions he felt for Ichigo. He did not know why she felt so deeply, but it unnerved him, no matter how overly positive those feelings were. He didn’t feel quite comfortable being the focus of such strong feelings. 

In the past, such attention only meant pain. It was a difficult association to ignore.

She had retreated to the armchair, watching over them from a few feet of distance, and Harry relaxed, able to ignore those emotion-filled eyes.

Their friends, Rukia and Renji, were far more muted. Easier to focus on, though he didn’t see much positivity there. They mostly seemed indifferent, which, while familiar, did nothing to comfort him. He didn’t know them, and they seemed to only know _of_ him. 

At least they seemed nice and welcoming, for the most part. He understood they were being supportive, helpful even, and he felt the slight warmth of appreciation. Some instinct within him wouldn’t allow him to trust them, exactly, but he could find it within himself to return their encouraging smiles with a small one of his own.

Their daughter, Ichika, seemed curious but reserved. Her bright crimson hair was clearly inherited from her father, though his was longer and braided while hers was in a high, spiky ponytail. Her eyes favored her mother, though her violet was lighter, almost grey. She was older, around twelve by the look of her, and well-mannered enough to keep a respectful distance. 

Not Kazui.

His hair was the same orangish-ginger as his fathers, locks wispy but short, lighter than his mother’s darker ginger. His eyes were a light amber, more of a golden honey than his mother’s honey brown and significantly lighter than his father’s deep chocolate brown. However, by far his most defining feature was his smile. It never faded, never faltered.

Kazui was everything he wasn’t, a ray of sunlight in the constant darkness that had been his life. Both lives. He simply radiated joy, curiosity, and love in a way that Harry just didn’t understand. How could anyone be _that_ happy? He was his constant companion the rest of the night, always nearby and almost always touching. He was such an affectionate child, his amber eyes so open and honest. Harry didn’t feel like he could deny him anything, found himself not wanting to do anything to endanger that reckless openness.

And honestly? He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched with any amount of kindness. It felt… nice. A balm to his frayed nerves and jaded soul. He usually flinched away from any touch but Kazui was just different. Different than any other person he had ever met before. He didn’t _want_ _anything_ from him. He didn’t _expect anything_ from him. He just accepted him, utterly and completely, with all the joy and abandon only a child was capable of.

Because, seemingly, Kazui had already decided. Harry was his younger brother now. He’d protect him, keep him safe, would never abandon him.

Would _love_ him.

Because they were family now. And that’s what family did.

Simple.

Harry didn’t know how to reciprocate, but Kazui didn’t seem affected by his stiffness, that he never reached out to the other, never leaned into his touch. Because he also wasn’t leaning away, wasn’t telling him to stop, wasn’t distancing himself on purpose. He just didn’t know what to do in response. And Kazui just seemed to understand in some deeply instinctual way. Undeterred, he continued raining down affection and Harry, utterly starved, just basked in the torrent.

The boy was also a fount of information. Harry was a wizard, Kazui assured him. He also said that he had damaged several buildings himself with accidental magic before a friend of the family informed them what was going on. Because he got too _excited._ Strong emotions seemed to be the cause, and Kazui cautioned him about keeping his feelings bottled up inside him, as they would likely explode along with a few other items that happened to be around him.

Harry wasn’t worried, his emotions were usually very muted. They were stronger here, but he’d only performed his accidental magic when he’d been severely distressed and felt desperate. Somehow, he didn’t think that would happen here. He did trust Ichigo and Orihime, regardless of how else he felt about them, and Kazui probably literally wasn’t able to injure another, emotionally or physically. 

And so, when Onna… Orihime… had offered him to either room with Kazui -

“I have a bunk bed! There’s plenty of room! You can even choose top or bottom!”

\- or stay in the spare bedroom, he just couldn’t deny the joyful child. Besides, after living in a cupboard for so long, an entire room to himself would probably not bring comfort. Not like Kazui so effortlessly gave.

He glanced over to Ichigo, gauging his opinion. Ichigo seemed to understand what he was looking for and nodded, the action sure, a small smile on his lips. Harry knew he meant it to be reassuring, and it was. Whatever reservations the man had with him, it seems that he trusted him enough to room with his son. Their past still danced behind those deep chocolate eyes, not forgotten, but obviously forgiven. Harry understood that sentiment perfectly.

Although, from the way Kazui cheerfully carried on, the child could probably handle himself. Not just a wizard, but a fullbringer as well with the powers of a Shinigami. And Harry could _feel_ how strong the other child was. The entire Kurosaki family burned bright with power - Ichigo most of all - and he could tell their son was a perfect blend of his parent’s energy. Harry hadn’t felt anything quite like it back in quiet, normal Privet drive. He didn’t understand how he could tell, he just could, as natural and as clear to him as seeing. Like a sixth sense, long out-of-use but not the least bit diminished. 

Kazui cheered and hopped in place when he gave Orihime his decision, taking his hand to pull him to his room. “Wait!” Orihime exclaimed, though she was laughing. She pulled them both to her, kissing each boy on the cheek, and said softly, “Have a good night, and sweet dreams. Love you.” Kazui repeated back the gesture and the words with a smile while Harry remained frozen in place, a gentle blush on his cheeks and feeling more than a little awkward. 

It only lasted a moment, however, and then Kazui was pulling him to his room, this time uninterrupted, excitedly chirping away as Harry stoically followed and allowed himself to be pulled along. “The guest bedroom is boring anyway, it’s so plain, just a bed and a dresser. I can show you all my toys and books!”

“I like books…” Harry commented, glancing around the room. It was a bit of an organized disaster and he couldn’t help but frown. 

“Ah,” Kazui stammered, his hand rubbing at the back of his head, “forgot it wasn’t that tidy right now. You don’t mind, do you?”

Those amber eyes looked into emerald imploringly and Harry sighed. He was never going to be able to deny this child anything. Odd, that thought, he felt like it should bother him more than it did. “It’s fine, I’ll simply assist you in getting the room into order.”

Kazui blinked before laughing brightly, “Sounds good! Tomorrow though, I’m tired.”

Harry nodded before glancing at the bed questionly.

“It’s a bunk bed! See, one bed on top of the other! I always wanted one, so I could have friends stay over, and papa finally got me one a few months ago! And now you’re here! Perfect, right?”

“...Right.” Harry was still trying to become accustomed to the energy of the other boy. Kazui didn’t seem the least bit fazed by his own reserved nature, at least.

“Ano… You want the bottom? You might be more comfortable, closer to the floor?” Kazui was watching him, gauging his reaction with an awareness beyond his seven years.

Harry shrugged, not really having a preference, both mattresses seemed to be the same. Though, perhaps it would be less of a hassle, not having to climb the ladder to get in and out of bed. He moved over to the bottom bunk and sat tentatively on the edge.

Kazui grinned at him before tilting his head to the side, considering him. “You don’t have any other clothes, do you? What even are those? They look so big!”

Harry frowned at his clothing, pulling at the shirt with poorly veiled disgust. “These were my cousin’s clothes, I have never had any of my own. He was far larger than me, thus the size.”

“Wait, you’ve never had your own clothes?!”

“That is what I said. My aunt said it was a waste of money when my cousin’s would work fine.”

“I think your aunt and I have a different opinion on ‘working fine’,” Ichigo said from the doorway.

Harry glanced over to him before he shrugged, “It is not as if I had any other options. They served their intended purpose, if poorly.”

“Kazui, you should lend him a change of sleep clothes and an outfit for tomorrow, you’re far closer to his size. We’ll go shopping tomorrow.”

“Yay!” Kazui exclaimed, immediately rummaging through his clothing to find something suitable for the smaller child.

Harry frowned at Ichigo, “I cannot repay you, and you are already doing more than enough. I do not wish to inconvenience you further.”

Ichigo waved him off, “Nonsense, you’re going to be a Kurosaki, which makes you just as much my son and responsibility as Kazui. You aren’t used to being taken care of, that’s obvious, but you’re just going to have to get used to it. We’re family now.”

Harry blushed slightly, his heart skipping at the quiet promise within those words. 

A family. 

A real one.

Kazui brought over the clothes, plopping them onto the bed next to him. Harry grasped the sweatpants and a soft t-shirt, standing with a question in his eyes. 

Ichigo pointed to another door in the room, “There’s a restroom through there. You should both shower before you change and get into bed… Separately, Kazui, don’t tamatized him.”

Kazui stuck out his tongue before grinning at Harry, “You can go first, and you can use whatever you want of my soap and stuff, I don’t mind.” 

Harry nodded, entering the bathroom and closing the door behind him. There were two sinks to his right and another door across. Curiosity getting the better of him, he opened it to see what could only be the guest room. A jack-n-jill. So even if he did take that room eventually, Kazui would be close by. He may want his own space someday, but for now this was more than fine.

The shower was lovely and soothing after the long day. Everything was so different now, he practically felt like a different person, or perhaps more like himself? It was so confusing, being near these people that brought even more of those hazy memories to the surface. 

He still worried about the potential repercussions of his outburst at Privet drive. Kazui may have damaged buildings with his accidental magic, but he hadn’t actually hurt anyone - although that may have only been because the family and friends of the Kurosaki’s seemed difficult to damage even when trying. The normal people of Privet drive were exceptionally frail in comparison. But would he really be so easily forgiven for murder?

Although… What proof was there he’d done it? Could he be tracked down somehow? Ichigo seemed convinced that this Wizarding World would figure out who he was eventually, would they know the rest? How could Ichigo and Orihime really be alright having a murderer so near their son?

Then again… Ichigo had murdered him… So perhaps at least he understood that kind of desperation more than anyone else may have. He hadn’t wanted to, somehow Harry knew that much. For Ichigo, his death had been an accident, a mistake.

Had Harry wanted to kill his uncle? No, he decided, not really. He was only protecting himself in the way that felt most expedient and natural for him. He hadn’t really known what would happen when he raised his finger, he had only felt convinced that his uncle would be forced to stop.

Well, he supposed he had been right about that. 

And now his uncle couldn’t hurt him again.

Then there was Ichigo offering to adopt him. Of course he was taking that offer. He understood how the law worked, had read enough about it when fantasizing about running away. Without an adoption, he could be placed into foster care, lost to a system that seemed frightfully broken. For some, perhaps, they found stability. However, Harry wasn’t one to take risks, would take certainty over the unknown every chance he got. Difficult to plan around chance, he preferred to mitigate it as much as possible. And Ichigo was offering him the stability he valued so highly.

They were also kind, unfailingly so, especially Kazui. Harry wasn’t going to mess this up. He decided, if they wanted to welcome him into their family, he would do his best to become a true part of it. They were strong, but he clearly wasn’t as weak as he had thought himself to be. He would put in the effort, train with Kazui, and become strong enough to protect them.

The way they clearly wanted to protect him.

A real family.

He smiled faintly at his reflection in the mirror, Kazui’s borrowed clothes fitting him better than his cousin’s ever had. They were close to the same size, being the same age with similar builds, though he was slightly shorter and the pants caught under his heels as he walked. The water in his hair weighed down his raven locks, causing it to lose it’s more feathered appearance and lay flat, his bangs hanging into his emerald green eyes until he shifted them around, to the sides of his face and along his nose. 

He kept them long to help hide the ugly scar on his forehead. It was the only feature he really disliked about himself. He could sense something from it, some foreign darkness, completely unlike his own. Parasitic and unwanted. It slumbered within that scar, he could tell, much the same way he could feel the power from others around him. 

After Kazui’s explanation of what happened when he was a baby and from reading his text book, he surmised that this power was from that Dark Lord’s… Voldemort’s power. And if it was still dwelling within him, surely it’s owner was not truly dead. His smile turned into a frown at the thought before he cleared his expression. There was nothing he could do about such things now. Just another reason to become stronger. 

He exited the bathroom, Kazui shooting him a grin before taking his place and closing the door behind him, leaving Harry with Ichigo. He had moved, seated now beside the bed, a book in his hand.

“...You look so much like you did then, with your hair like that,” he said softly, deep chocolate eyes taking in his appearance. “Although, I sincerely doubt Ulquiorra ever wore such casual clothing,” he added with humor, the words made lighter by the quirking of his lips.

Harry made his way over to the bed, crawling in at his gesture. After snuggling into the soft blankets, the weight heavier and warmer than any he remembered, he asked, “Would you tell me about it? About my life… ...before?”

Ichigo’s expression softened more at the honest curiosity in the request, “I really didn’t know you well, you would do better asking ‘Hime. She never really talked to me about it, I think it was confusing for her. You were under orders from another, someone I don’t think you could refuse, to capture her but also to keep her safe. I came to rescue her, we fought, and, well…”

“I died.”

Ichigo sighed, “Yeah. ‘Hime was pretty torn up about it, for a long time. I wasn’t exactly myself in that fight…”

_“That wasn’t me fighting you. That was my hollow form. I had no control over it.”_

“Your hollow…” Harry mumbled, green eyes dimmed and hazed, a half-remembered conversation drifting through his mind, “You didn’t have control…”

“Yeah… You remember?”

“Only pieces, fragments, phrases. There’s a demon that somewhat looks like you, I remember the eyes the most. Gold on black sclera… He wanted me dead, it was so clear to me that he would actually succeed… And I felt… Afraid… Why? Death isn’t frightening. What did I have to live for? What would surviving to die another day matter? I… I don’t think I really felt, _anything,_ before that. I thought dying wouldn’t matter to me anymore than living had…”

“But it did. You didn’t want to die.”

“Yes… But why? I don’t understand…”

“All living things want to continue living, it’s the most basic instinct. Perhaps you hadn’t felt it before because no one else had ever been strong enough to be a threat to you…”

“No… that’s not right… Or not all of it,” the small boy said, eyes still clouded with half-remembered memories. “I had faced death once before that… I know I did, but I welcomed it then, was curious to know how it would feel. If, somehow, I would actually feel that. Something had changed, wasn’t the same, between that first time and when you succeeded… But I can’t remember what it was…”

“Perhaps, you’ll remember eventually. Does it matter now?”

Hazy green eyes narrowed in consideration, “I think it does. I feel like it was important. That it still is.”

“Then I’m sure it’ll come back to you. It’s alright, Harry, you are who you are now. There’s no need to pressure yourself, to remember your past life. It has helped shape you but you are also free from it. Keep moving forward.”

Harry nodded, taking the kind words to heart.

Kazui emerged from the attached bathroom and with barely two steps he was up on the top bunk. Harry blinked in astonishment - no wonder the other child hadn’t minded - and wondered if moving in such a way was something he’d also be able to learn to do.

Ichigo chuckled at his son while shaking his head in exasperation, though Harry could see a gleam in those dark brown eyes… It was pride. Harry wondered what it would feel like, to have someone proud of him.

“Story! Story! Story!” Kazui chanted from the top bunk.

Ichigo waved the book, “Right here, you loon, you already had me get it, now settle down. Which one tonight?”

“Ulqui hasn’t heard them before, right Ulqui?”

“Ulqui?”

“Well… It’s easier than,” Kazui paused, clearly still struggling with the rest of his old name.

“Why not just use Harry?” Harry asked, more amused than anything close to offended.

“Because I like Ulqui, it’s cooler, and everyone I know will go crazy if they found out my new little brother is Harry Potter, so it’s safer too.”

Ichigo stared at his son a moment before muttering, “I can’t believe you thought that far ahead…”

“Hey! I can be smart when I want to!”

Ichigo grinned, “Never said you couldn’t, you just usually act first and think later. You’re too much like me sometimes, which honestly scares me.”

Kazui leaned over the side, head upside down and grinned at Harry, “Ulqui will think for the both of us then, won’t ya Ulqui?”

Harry couldn’t resist returning that upside-down smile with his own small one, “I’ll try to keep you out of trouble, though I have a feeling it will be a full time job.”

Ichigo laughed, ruffling Kazui’s hair as he swatted the hand away, nearly falling before grasping the side of the bed with his other hand and scrambling back under his covers.

“Graceful,” Ichigo smirked.

Kazui stuck out his tongue.

“So,” Ichigo asked, “from the beginning then?”

“Yeah!” Kazui exclaimed, “The Wizard and the Hopping Pot!”

“Alright, alright, settle down,” Ichigo said fondly, waiting for both boys to be lying calmly before he began reading from the well-worn book.

_“There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbors. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms, and antidotes spring ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot…”_

Harry closed his eyes, letting the soothing sound of Ichigo’s well-practiced voice wash over him. He felt safe, he realized, for perhaps the first time. He honestly couldn’t compare the feeling to anything else in his memory. As the story continued on, he couldn’t help but miss his own story book, one of the few possessions he had actually cared about in this life. He could probably find such a book again, however, and if leaving such a thing behind gave him this… Well… The trade was more than worth it.

_“...But from that day forward, the wizard helped the villagers, like his father before him, lest the pot cast off its slipper, and begin to hop once more.”_

Harry was drifting by the end, but he still felt the soft press of lips to his forehead, still heard the gentle whisper of goodnight, and still felt his own lips twitch in the ghost of a smile.


	4. The Cat Maiden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song lyrics from Ben Howard's 'Gracious' and 'These Waters', respectively. You can click at the beginning of each song for a video of the song performed live by Ben Howard.

_The gods were once disputing whether it was possible for a living being to change its nature._

_Jupiter said "Yes," but Venus said "No." So, to try the question, Jupiter turned a Cat into a Maiden, and gave her to a young man for a wife._

_The wedding was duly performed and the young couple sat down to the wedding-feast._

_"See," said Jupiter, to Venus, "how becomingly she behaves. Who could tell that yesterday she was but a Cat? Surely her nature is changed?"_

_"Wait a minute," replied Venus, and let loose a mouse into the room._

_No sooner did the bride see this than she jumped up from her seat and tried to pounce upon the mouse._

_"Ah, you see," said Venus, "Nature will out."_

* * *

Teal eyes narrowed as he considered the ordinary two story house. He hadn’t been back to Karakura Town other than to attend the former substitute Shinigami’s wedding, many, many years ago now. He saw him one last time as he attempted to hand in his badge to Kyoraku-taicho, just before the birth of his son. The Sotaichi had declined, however, insisting he keep the badge.

_“You never know when it may come in handy, Ichigo-kun. I’ll increase patrols in Karakura Town, so don’t feel pressured to use it. However, there’s no need to return it. Best keep it with you.”_

He hadn’t seen the former substitute Shinigami sense that meeting, busy as he was. He had no time for such things, doing the paperwork of a captain _and_ a lieutenant. If Matsumoto wasn’t otherwise so capable he’d have her replaced. Still, at least her antics were somewhat amusing.

Not that he’d ever let her know that. No, he’d take that secret to the _grave._

He could feel Kurosaki’s spiritual pressure clearly, even from his position across the street. He still had dismal control over it; it was like a beacon. The other spiritual pressure signatures within the house were almost impossible to detect in comparison.

However, he wasn’t a captain for nothing.

He sensed three more, which was odd. From what he had heard, Kurosaki now lived with Orihime, his wife, and Kazui, his son. The Abarais gossiped enough about the family they visited as often as they were able. Which wasn't often, considering one was a lieutenant and the other a captain. In fact, they should be here now, he recalled, however they usually stayed with Urahara.

So who was emitting the fourth signature?

He frowned, catching Hollow reiatsu from one of the smaller signatures. An Espada was visiting then? Grimmjow? That would certainly make his job easier, though he preferred to deal with Harribel-sama. 

He could always let himself in but he liked to think he was more well-mannered than that. This family had done a lot for Soul Society, they had earned his respect and consideration. He used shunpo to arrive in front of the front door and knocked.

No answer.

He glanced at the barely risen sun. It was early, yes, but not inappropriately so. He would have already been working for the past hour in Soul Society, in fact _had_ been, seeing as he left out for this case about that time.

He knocked again. _Louder._

Another minute elapsed and he raised his fist a third time, knuckles poised, before the door was wrenched open to reveal a very flustered Kurosaki Ichigo.

“Kurosaki-san,” Toshiro said as a way of greeting. “Thank you for receiving me. I would have given notice, however, I am a bit pressed for time.”

“Toshiro…”

He couldn’t stop the automatic response if he tried, “That’s Hitsugaya-taicho to you!”

“God, Toshiro, it’s too early for this. Just come inside already. You have any idea what time it is?”

Toshiro didn’t answer but did follow as the other led him inside. He paused just inside the threshold before Ichigo laughed lightly, saying, “Don’t worry about the shoes Toshiro, we live fairly western here.”

Toshiro nodded and allowed himself to be shown to a table, sitting at his host’s gesture.

“Tea?” Kurosaki asked, already moving to fill the kettle.

“Do you have green with honey?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he answered back. Kettle set to boil, he joined him at the table.

“You’ve grown a bit,” Kurosaki noted, grinning, “Won’t pass for a grade-schooler anymore.”

Toshiro frowned though he was privately glad for that as well. He didn’t like his fully adult form that his body would take during his complete Bankai, but it was nice to not be mistaken for a child anymore. His body mercifully passed for sixteen now, though he was still at least half a foot shorter than most.

“And you’re losing your hairline, old man,” Toshiro shot back with a smirk. He was falling back into the banter the two once shared when they had been comrades. Kurosaki hadn’t changed much, though he did seem… Lighter. His smile didn’t seem fake anymore.

Kurosaki chuckled, one hand rubbing the back of his neck, “Goat-face’s genes. Could let it grow out a bit, I suppose, but that’s just a hassle. I don’t know how you find the time to deal with your hair every morning.”

Toshiro shrugged. He liked his hair and he actually cared a great deal about his appearance, how others perceived him. Good impressions were worth the small amount of time they required. People treated you differently, based on how you presented yourself, and he took advantage of that where he was able. Matsumoto had originally found his current style, claiming he looked dashing. He figured she’d know. It also kept his white locks out of his face in battle.

He tilted his head, shifting the one segment that always fell into his left eye.

Mostly.

He didn’t bother explaining any of that to Kurosaki. 

“I am here investigating a Cero discharge that occurred in England about twelve hours ago,” he said, never one to mince words or small talk.

Ichigo stiffened. Interesting.

“Why would you come here then, if it happened in England?”

Toshiro carefully noted the shift from open to guarded expression. The former substitute Shinigami was already aware. Was he protecting someone?

“I thought you would have a way of contacting the remaining Espada. I have some items that I wanted them to use their Pesquisa upon, if they could identify whose spiritual pressure they belonged to.”

Kurosaki’s eyes narrowed in contemplation, relaxing a bit though still far more tense than he had been at the door. He had been concerned Toshiro had managed to track the signature here. He hadn’t, but Kurosaki’s actions practically screamed at him that his quarry was here.

The fourth signature. The one with the Hollow taint.

Upstairs.

If Kurosaki was sheltering him then clearly there was a story here, one that he should take care in unraveling.

He remembered the condition of the ‘bedroom’ he had investigated.

_Great care._

Toshiro slowly reached to his side, untying the blanket that held within it the worn book and bat he had retrieved just a short while ago. He placed them upon the table between them, teal eyes carefully watching what his host would do.

Kurosaki reached out, taking each item in hand. He opened the book, a fond smile that Toshiro knew must have been unconscious upon his lips. His frown returned, however, as he inspected the bat. Part of the stuffing was visible from where the wing had been ripped off. He shook his head, chuckled, and set it back down upon the faded blanket, fingers brushing against the embroidered name.

“Perhaps, the Espada are unnecessary,” Toshiro murmured. 

Chocolate eyes snapped to aquamarine and he took care to slowly place his hands face down on the table.

“Kurosaki, I want to tell you about where I just came from, about the room from which those items were collected.”

The kettle whistled. Neither moved.

Moments later, Kurosaki must have found something within Toshiro’s eyes that settled him because he nodded, turning to address the kettle and fix their tea. Toshiro simply watched, his posture unmoved. There was no need to put his host on guard again. Well, anymore than he already was.

Kurosaki returned, placing both the tea and honey in front of Toshiro, who took care to fix it how he liked before addressing the other.

“There were four dead,” he began. It needed to be said and he was never one to soften such facts. Kurosaki frowned but nodded for him to continue. “Three were residents of Number Four, Privet Drive, the source of the Cero. Another was a home-bound woman that lived down the street. There were other houses damaged but their residents were not home at the time. 

“The Wizarding community responded first and repaired all damage, including modifying the memories of the witnesses from the neighboring houses. There remains no trace other than that loss of life. 

“I was dispatched to investigate. I’ve had… success infiltrating the Wizarding World when called for before.”

Kurosaki laughed lightly at that, “Your appearance probably helped with that.”

Toshiro smirked, “Quite. That and I do have some aptitude with a wand.” He lifted his tea and sipped, teal eyes peering into dark chocolate brown. 

Kurosaki raised his eyebrows.

“May I continue?” Toshiro questioned as he sat his tea back down.

Kurosaki nodded, gesturing with a hand for him to go on.

“I investigated Number Four to find traces of reiatsu. It was most heavily concentrated in the cupboard under the stairs. There were… multiple locks upon the door, and a grated vent upon the front that could only be open from the outside. Inside were a few broken toys, large, worn children’s clothing, and what served as a bed. That blanket,” he gestured and Kurosaki’s fingers pressed upon it again, “was the only bedding. That along with the book and toy were the items most heavily saturated with the reiatsu that released the Cero, and so that is what I took.”

The worn blanket was now fisted tightly in Kurosaki’s hand, his eyes bright with barely restrained anger.

“You said all occupants of Number Four died?”

“Not all,” Toshiro said carefully, softly, “Three. There was a Fourth resident, according to records. An estranged relative.” That detail had taken a detour to the Twelfth to access human government records, not an enjoyable necessity but Toshiro was always thorough.

“One Harry Potter. I believe him to be missing, not deceased, though I do not honestly know what the Wizarding World has determined.”

“Why?” Kurosaki questioned, “Isn’t it possible he was also caught up in the blast?”

“Possible, in theory, however I am confident that it was that boy that fired the Cero. The signature of that room, the condition of living, it all points to an emotional release of accidental magic. Honestly, the only cause of concern is the Hollow aspect to all of this. A Cero is not something any usual Wizarding child could produce. Mimic, perhaps, but this was a true Cero. Somehow, that child performed a skill only a Hollow is capable of, and I want to know _how._

“Understand, Kurosaki, Soul Society has no jurisdiction with the living. Only with the dead. If the boy is human, I will be able to conclude my investigation as a curious case of underage accidental magic, and nothing more.”

He carefully regarded the former substitute Shinigami and he returned to his tea. It wasn’t bad, and the motion was familiar. Kurosaki was… processing. He allowed the other all the time he needed. Clearly Kurosaki had taken in this child, which now put him under his protection.

Toshiro knew only too well how protective Kurosaki Ichigo was to those he thought of as his.

He also valued his life.

He wasn’t concerned, however. Not anymore. If the boy had been a true threat, Kurosaki would not have allowed him sanctuary within his own home. He trusted his judgement; he didn’t know a more honorable man. Now he needed only to confirm his suspicions and he could close the matter. Just as in Kurosaki’s case, Soul Society would have no jurisdiction here.

However, if the boy was truly Harry Potter, the Wizarding World would be another problem entirely.

“I’ll go get him,” Kurosaki eventually decided. Dark chocolate eyes captured teal, sharp and cutting, “I’m trusting you, Toshiro.”

Toshiro nodded, then smiled in a way only those that knew him well could catch, “That’s Hitsugaya-taicho, Kurosaki-san.”

Kurosaki’s features relaxed. Shaking his head, he headed upstairs, presumably to retrieve the boy in question.

He returned a handful of minutes later, not with one boy, but two. What could only be his son, Kazui - given the similar hair - was cradled against his chest in a single-armed hold, yawning and rubbing tired amber eyes. His other hand was clasped by a slightly smaller child, this one with raven hair and green, green eyes.

 _Such a beautiful child…_ Toshiro thought before frowning at his own thoughts. It wasn’t untrue, just, odd, for him. He wasn’t that susceptible to appreciating beautiful people, what with Matsumoto such a constant in his life for so many years. But it was more than physical beauty he saw there. Those emerald eyes showed a haunted resilience that simply did not belong on such a young face.

They way his had once been. No… even more so.

“Who’s that?” Kazui asked tiredly, yawning again at the end of his short question.

“That is Toshiro Hitsugaya,” Kurosaki informed him, “He is the captain of Soul Society’s Tenth Division. He’s here to see Ulqui.”

Kazui seemed to wake up a bit more, peering at him with rounded amber eyes. The raven haired boy stepped forward, his voice soft but clear as he asked, “You are here to see me, Hitsugaya-taicho?”

The soft smile Toshiro gave the other was true, in a way none of his smiles had been for a long time. He recognized the resemblance, connecting the dots in a way few minds could. The nickname had helped, of course. A rare reincarnation, to be sure, but clearly a human child none-the-less.

“Yes,” he said, just as softly, “But I’ve seen all I need.”

He stood and nodded to Kurosaki, “I will let myself out, clearly I have imposed upon your morning enough.” His teal eyes slid to the small bundle in his arms, Kazui nodding off now that he was leaving and nothing more interesting was happening.

Kurosaki shifted Kazui slightly as he responded, “You don’t need to leave so suddenly, Toshiro, you could stay for breakfast at least.”

Toshiro shook his head, “It’s best I return and settle this matter immediately. Thank you, for the offer.”

Teal eyes slid down to haunted emerald before flickering back to deep brown, “You’ll take care of him?”

“Of course. He’s a Kurosaki now, my son.”

Toshiro nodded in approval before showing himself out.

He genuinely wished them well. He hated to see children suffer, the wounds from his own life never completely healed. At least he had had his Granny. And Hyourinmaru, once he could finally hear him within his soul.

He summoned the Senkaimon, allowing the Jigokucho to guide him on, the memory of haunted emerald eyes following in his footsteps behind him.

* * *

Ichigo sat the boys at the table, Kazui waking up a bit more as he cheerfully conversed with Ulqui. His son was insistent on the nickname and Ichigo had accepted it without really being conscious of doing so. He started breakfast, figuring he could let Orihime sleep in a bit longer. They had had a rather late night, discussing their newest addition.

_“They asleep?”_

_“Yeah,” Ichigo said, dressing down to his sleep pants and sliding in next to her, cradling her to his bare chest. She snuggled into him, breathing deeply. He loved when she did that, his fingers trailing over her bare arm._

_“How do you feel about this, really?”_

_Ichigo sighed, “I still don’t think any of you have seriously considered the mess this is going to be. Still… I can’t turn him away. He’s just a kid, Hime, regardless of who he used to be. That’s clear. So, we’ll make it work. Kazui already loves him, that’s obvious.”_

_He felt her lips smile against him. “That sounds like our little courageous one. I’ve been looking more into magical laws anyway, since Kazui started school last March. It’s actually very fascinating, the way they are written, not like mundane laws at all.”_

_“Oh?” She would know, his wife being an accomplished child advocate attorney. He was so proud of her. It hadn’t been easy, juggling such a demanding career and having a child. But Kazui was the light of their life and worth every struggle and compromise._

_Ichigo had even taken a sabbatical that first year, staying home with the new born so she could return to work. Her work was both fulfilling and important and she shone like the bright star she was in her element. She was often underestimated, had been her entire life, but she was fierce when it concerned the welfare of the children she served._

_Honestly, her reaction to Ulqui’s sudden arrival in their lives came as no surprise to him. It would be irresponsible to place any child with his abilities in the system, and there was no way she would allow him to return to where he had fled from._

_“Yes, I was looking over my books again while you were with the boys and I’ve found something I think we could use…”_

After a crash course in Wizarding law pertaining to the rights of Wizarding children that were abused by their mundane family members, he did feel a bit more confident in their ability to pull this off. Urahara would, unfortunately, definitely be necessary though. Hopefully Renji had already filled him in like he said he would.

He set the breakfast down in front of his boys and joined them. Ulqui had been softly running his small hands over the items Toshiro had retrieved as he listened to Kazui, a calm expression on his young face. He observed as those emerald eyes lit up at the fairly simple meal. Ichigo felt his heart ache at the sight, privately adding starvation to the list of abuses the child must have endured.

No longer. He was theirs now. They’d figure out how to make it official, make it stick, make it so none from any world could pry him away from them.

Ichigo’s name didn’t mean ‘he who protects’ for nothing.

* * *

Orihime had ended up being called in that morning, parting with a soft kiss to Ichigo’s shoulder as he kissed her forehead, and a quick kiss to each boy’s cheek, wishing them all luck with Urahara. Kazui was on a short holiday from school and held both Ulqui’s and his father’s hand as they made their way to the Souten hidden away from prying eyes.

Ulqui had taken to Kazui’s nickname for him, not having any real positive emotions attached to the name ‘Harry’. It helped distance himself in his mind from his time with his relatives, a time he wouldn’t mind forgetting completely, though he knew that such a thing wouldn’t be possible or healthy. He’d need to make peace with it, someday. For now though, the distance was appreciated and he couldn’t find it within himself to deny Kazui anything.

They were expected, Ichigo having called ahead, and Ulqui looked around at all the odds and ends for sale. It was definitely a unique shop, to say the least. Then there was the owner himself, his power close to Ichigo’s, and a black cat that most definitely _was not_ a cat, not with that amount of power. He found himself unconsciously stepping closer to Kazui, instinctually fearing the powerful Shinigami. The slightly elder of the two smiled encouragingly and wrapped an arm around his younger brother’s narrow shoulders.

“So this is our little former Espada, eh?” Urahara questioned, smiling down at him. He wore a rather odd hat over messy light-blond hair, Ulqui decided, but his expression was kind enough, if a bit too interested, curiosity burning in slate grey eyes.

Ulqui nodded as Ichigo answered, “Yes, and we’re not here for you to analyze him or put him through any weird tests.”

Urahara pulled out a fan, placing it in front of his mouth as he exclaimed, “Ichigo-kun, you wound me, I’d never!”

“Sure,” Ichigo said, frowning.

“So distrusting, even after everything. What have I ever done to deserve such lack of faith?”

“You placed the Hogyoku _inside_ of Rukia’s gigai, you threw me in a pit to quite literally conquer my inner demon or die, you sent a handful of _fifteen_ year olds to invade Soul Society with nothing but a _cat_ and a couple days training…”

“Okay, okay, so maybe I’ve taken a few risks…” 

“Hm,” Ichigo responded, giving the other a rather flat look.

“Anyway, follow me,” Urahara said, rapidly changing the subject with the snap of his fan.

He led them to an office where several documents were laid out. “It wasn’t actually that difficult, tracking down the proper forms and what not. This isn’t the first time I’ve needed to manipulate human legal documents…” He went on to explain several things that Ulqui listened in to but didn’t completely understand, not well versed in the material. By the end, however, at least in the mundane world, he’d legally be Harry Ulquiorra Kurosaki, the adopted son of Ichigo and Orihime Kurosaki. 

Kazui was ecstatic, of course, bouncing in his seat and holding his hand tightly within his own, the blinding smile never once leaving his face.

“The Wizarding world will be more difficult to gain custody of, given Harry’s status there,” Urahara informed them.

Ichigo nodded, “Hime thinks she may have found a way. I’m sure she can call you later tonight and you two can hash out the details. I can’t hope to explain it like she can.”

Urahara smiled, “That girl is something. Always surprising me.”

“She does that alot,” Ichigo agreed, a warm smile upon his own face.

Ulqui felt the slippery whisper of a distant memory at the exchange... 

_Her discomfort lasted but a second. And she didn’t even raise an eyebrow at my question._

_Such a strong woman…_

He blinked, the memory sliding away as Urahara continued, “Alright, I’ll expect her call. Renji, Rukia, and Ichika are down in the training room, if you want to visit them.”

“Oh! Can we papa!” Kazui exclaimed, hopping up and tugging his arm in excitement, pulling Ulqui with him as he still had his hand tightly clasped within his own. “Please please please please please -”

Ichigo was laughing by the third ‘please’, “Fine, fine, we can go down to the training room.”

“Yay!” Kazui shouted, fist-pumping the air. He then pulled Ulqui from the room, saying, “It’s this way Ulqui, you’ll love it! We can play all we want and not worry about destroying anything!”

Ulqui became slightly concerned at the wording of that last statement.

It turned out ‘playing’ for Kurosaki Kazui really meant training, though he was clearly having fun. He had challenged Ichika to a dual, their parents watchful as their Zanpakuto clashed rather violently.

Ulqui found himself itching to join them, though he didn’t fully understand why. He’d never before felt the need to fight anyone. In this life. But something about their exchange sent a thrill through him, a sense of familiarity and comfortability within his own skin, like he was _meant_ to fight as they were.

He focused on that feeling, his magic and reiatsu answering his call, and his green eyes snapped open as he felt a familiar weight within his right hand, widening at the sight of the blade.

_Murciélago…_

“Ulqui?” Ichigo questioned him, a concerned look on his face, dark eyes flickering between his own and the Zanpakuto he held.

Ulqui didn’t know how to answer him, and he was faintly concerned he was in trouble.

Ichigo seemed to read the uncertainty in his emerald eyes because his expression became comforting, kneeling down to his level and holding out his hands, palms facing upwards, silently asking for the blade.

Ulqui carefully laid it upon the outstretched hands and Ichigo smiled, saying, “Would you like to train with them?”

Emerald eyes flickered over at the other two children, still locked in battle, neither aware of what was happening between Ichigo and himself. Ulqui shook his head, “I don’t think I could keep up with them…”

Ichigo really smiled then, the expression rueful, “I have a feeling you’d be surprised. I honestly didn’t expect you to be able to call upon your Zanpakuto like this. That wasn’t something you could do, before, not that I recalled. Espada either have their Zanpakuto sealed at their side or released as a part of their form, and you definitely didn’t have any wings before sealing it into a blade.”

_Wings? He had once had wings? Yes… He remembered flying… His right wing disintegrating… Not even ash remaining…_

Ulqui shook himself from the hazy memories, scrambled and cloudy, “I think my magic manifested Murciélago, I could feel it well up inside me as I watched Onii-chan and Ichika-senpai.”

“You remember your Zapakuto’s name?”

Ulqui nodded, “As soon as it was in my hand, it was like it had always been with me…”

Ichigo nodded, and considered for a moment. “Would you like me to teach you? You may remember more, if that’s what you want.”

Ulqui gave another nod, “I’d like that, thank you, Otoosan.”

Dark chocolate eyes widened at the address before a warm smile lit up Ichigo’s face as he gestured for Ulqui to reclaim Murciélago. “We’ll start with learning how to stand properly, don’t fight your instincts with this, I have a feeling you will remember more unconsciously then either of us can know…”

Ichigo led him through a simple kata after releasing his soul from his body using an odd badge and drawing his own Zanpakuto, Zangetsu. Ulqui’s small body flowed through the forms, familiar and yet not, at the same time. Ichigo was patient and watchful, adjusting him as needed and giving advice when necessary.

Eventually the other two children joined them, both severely out of breath, small cuts and bruises upon their skin, but happy and grinning as they watched Ulqui and Ichigo successfully complete the simple kata. 

Kazui cheered when Ulqui completed the last stance, “That’s amazing Ulqui! You have a Zanpakuto too! That means we can play together like Ichika-senpai!”

Ichigo laughed, saying, “It will take a while for him to reach your level, Kazui, but I’m sure he’ll be there soon at the pace he learns.”

“I’ll help papa! I’ll be careful, promise!”

Ichigo ruffled the wild orange-ginger hair and nodded.

Ulqui held Murciélago out in front of him, simply looking at the long blade. It was heavy but somehow he didn’t have a problem wielding it. The elongated tsuba that guarded the tsuka from the habaki curved in the shape of a stretched ‘S’, fattened around the body of the sword with four equally spaced curved cut-outs. The tsuka ito that wrapped the tsuka was a dark, muted green, the corded texture feeling familiar and comfortable in his small hand.

Closing his eyes, he managed to will away the katana, a small smile of success upon his lips as he felt the heavy weight of the blade vanish from his grip.

“That’s so cool!” Kazui whispered beside him. Ulqui looked over to him to see his amber eyes gleaming. “Are you using your magic? I think I felt it, just now.”

Ulqui nodded, “I believe so. I hadn’t tried to do so consciously before. It just came to me.”

“But that’s so rare,” Kazui informed him, “To conjure without a wand? _And_ to banish? You’re amazing Ulqui!”

Ulqui returned Kazui’s sincere smile with a small one of his own, not really knowing what to say to the praise from his adoptive elder brother but liking the unfamiliar feeling that flooded him all the same.

“He’s right, Ulqui,” Ichigo said, an emotion within those dark brown eyes he never had the experience of receiving before…

...Pride.

Just a little, his smile grew.

* * *

[ _“Oh, how would you know?_ ](https://youtu.be/GAMZ9k8PR-E?t=71)

_When everything around you's changing like the weather of a big black storm?_

_And who would you turn to?_

_Oh had I a ghost, a shadow at the most, would you let me know?_

_'Cause I_ _adore you so…_

_When it all comes clear, when the wind is settled, I'll be here, you know."_

Ichigo had called it a guitar. Ulqui had seen them before, of course, but never in person. He watched, fascinated as his fingers plucked the strings with the same sureness at his sword work. He also had a fair voice as he sang.

_" 'Cause you said ours were the lighthouse towers, the sand upon that place._

_Darling I'll grow weary, happy still with just the memory of your face._

_Hm, gracious goes the ghost of you._

_And I will never forget the plans and the silhouettes you drew here._

_Oh, gracious goes the ghost of you..._

_...My dear…”_

Orihime and Kazui sang along with him, the song obviously familiar, as Kazui led his mother in a dance, Orihime laughing every now and then, correcting his footwork or posture.

_“And how would you know?_

_When everything around you's bruised and battered like the cold night storm?_

_And who would you turn to?_

_Oh had I a ghost, a shadow at the most, would you tell me so?_

_'Cause I, I adore you so…_

_When it all comes clear, the wind is settled, I'll be here, you know."_

Ulqui couldn’t help but feel the emotion Ichigo put into the words as he sang. There was a sadness there, but also a quiet hope and fragile peace that was cherished and held dear. Ulqui found himself smiling, somehow understanding the other a bit better, as well as relating, finding those same emotions within himself.

Was this what it felt like?

When a heart was born?

_" 'Cause you said ours were the lighthouse towers, the sand upon that place._

_Darling I'll grow weary, happy still, with just the memory of your face._

_Oh gracious goes the ghost of you..._

_And I will never forget the plans and the silhouettes you drew here..._

_And gracious goes the ghost of you..._

_...my dear..._

_...my dear.”_

The song ended and Kazui was at his side, half-dragging him over to Orihime as she softly scolded him, “Don’t pull so hard, Kazui!”

“Mama, teach Ulqui too yeah?”

Orihime blushed slightly, looking into the emerald green eyes of her now-second son. Ulqui could tell she saw the shadow of his former self in his eyes but he was slowly becoming comfortable with that, finding that it didn’t lessen the affection in those honey brown eyes.

“Do you want to learn?” she asked him, Kazui nodding enthusiastically just behind her shoulder.

Ulqui almost laughed at the sight. What an odd impulse.

“I would be honored, okaasan.”

Again that shocked, warm expression, and a smile that rivaled Kazui’s. Ulqui couldn’t help but feel happy being the one to bring such happiness, his own smile small in comparison. Small, but there.

Kazui grinned before bounding back to Ichigo, sitting next to him on the couch, placing his small hands upon the coffee table in front of him. Ichigo’s grin mirrored his son’s as he strummed once and they both sang,

[ _“I saw…”_ ](https://youtu.be/CmG7fla7zME)

Kazui’s small hands began to beat out a syncopated rhythm against the table as Ichigo’s fingers moved across the strings, their singing continuing,

_“...red and yellow flowers outside over the moors..._

_And the brightest sunrise ever to touch my eyes.”_

Orihime was gently moving his hands into position and Ulqui simply allowed her to move him how she wanted, taking careful note of the position and posture even as he continued to listen to Kazui and Ichigo,

_“Oh and through it all..._

_I stood and stumbled, waded through my thoughts and heart._

_Yeah through it all..._

_I fooled and fumbled, lost to the poet's frown._

_I fought the wolves of patience, ah, just to let it lie down.”_

Orihime moved them gently to the music and Ulqui couldn’t help but falter a bit at the odd movements she guided him through. She remained patient with him, softly encouraging and correcting, as well as praising when he managed to correct and move well.

_“You see these waters? They'll pull you up..._

_Oh, now if you're bolder than the darkness._

_My, my, let these songs be an instrument to cut..._

_Oh spaces 'tween the happiness and the hardness._

_Yeah, my, my, spaces 'tween the happiness and the hardness.”_

“Don’t look at your feet so much,” Orihime murmured, “trust your balance, you’re actually quite graceful, when you’re not thinking about it.”

He did as she suggested, focusing on her honey brown eyes instead, her gentle, warm smile. Like magic, he steadied, and her smile grew as she nodded.

_“Oh... yeah._

_Out the door..._

_The touch of morning, the burning of the frost..._

_Out the door..._

_My strong hands to hold, good friends that I never lost._

_Yeah, strong hands to hold, good friends that I never lost._

_And what we found..._

_Down these coves of limestone and cockle shells..._

_What we found..._

_Down these roads that wander as lost as the heart…”_

As the song continued, he found himself improving, missing less steps, his feet surer with the repeated movement. This was… fun, actually. Not un-similar to a kata, really, just, with another person. 

Together.

Not alone.

_“Is a chance to breathe again, a chance for a fresh start here._

_My, my, a chance to breathe again, a chance for a fresh start here._

_Oh my, a chance to breathe again, a chance for a fresh start… no..._

_Oh, you see these waters? They'll pull you up._

_Oh, no, if you're bolder than the darkness._

_My, my, let these songs be an instrument to cut here darling..._

_These spaces between the happiness and the hardness..._

_Oh my, my, spaces between the happiness and the hardness..._

_Oh my, my, spaces between the happiness and the hardness..._

_Oh my, my, spaces between the happiness and the hardness._

_Oh... yeah.”_

The song came to an end and they slowed to a natural stop. 

“Thank you, okaasan,” Ulqui said, finding the words sincere. He felt like he was thanking her for far more than a simple dance and from the look in her eyes, he felt like she knew.

“Anytime, Ulqui-kun.”

_“...Ulquiorra. Don’t call me as you would a human, I said. When you call me, call me ‘Ulquiorra’. Call me only that.”_

_“No… that’s not right… Or not all of it,” the small boy said, eyes still clouded with half-remembered memories. “I had faced death once before that… I know I did, but I welcomed it then, was curious to know how it would feel. If, somehow, I would actually feel that. Something had changed, wasn’t the same, between that first time and when you succeeded… But I can’t remember what it was…”_

_“Perhaps, you’ll remember eventually. Does it matter now?”_

Rather abruptly, without really noticing the movement, Ulqui wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her, realizing as he did so that it was the first time he had initiated such a thing. She hugged him back, arms wrapping around narrow shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

_Hazy green eyes narrowed in consideration, “I think it does. I feel like it was important. That it still is.”_

He couldn’t help but think that this, this had been the difference.

_Oh, I get it._

_This is it._

_This here in my hand._

_The heart._


	5. The Bat, the Birds, and the Beasts

_A great conflict was about to come between the Birds and the Beasts. When the two armies were collected together the Bat hesitated which to join. The Birds that passed his perch said:_

_"Come with us"; but he said: "I am a Beast."_

_Later on, some Beasts who were passing underneath him looked up and said:_

_"Come with us"; but he said:_

_"I am a Bird."_

_Luckily at the last moment peace was made, and no battle took place, so the Bat came to the Birds and wished to join in the rejoicings, but they all turned against him and he had to fly away._

_He then went to the Beasts, but soon had to beat a retreat, or else they would have torn him to pieces._

_"Ah," said the Bat, "I see now, He that is neither one thing nor the other has no friends."_

* * *

Toshiro had given his report, the case was closed.

In Soul Society.

But the memory of those haunted emerald eyes had chased him here, unable to forget the mix of guarded hope, of fragile trust, of fear of his own power. Kurosaki Ichigo would be good for the child - the entire Kurosaki family would. If he had had that kind of support when he had needed it…

...Maybe he wouldn’t be so isolated from everyone around him now.

He didn’t want the reincarnated former Espada walking down the same path that he had. All that power, so young, it _would_ isolate him - it was inevitable. Because he would hurt someone, eventually, and grow increasingly wary and withdrawn. The boy had a kind heart, that was obvious - he didn’t _want_ to hurt those around him. 

No matter how much he tried to hide - how much he wouldn’t admit even to himself - that such a fear affected him.

He reminded him so much of himself. 

But the Kurosaki’s would be more than durable enough for the child to actually be himself around, and would not be injured so easily. Hell, Kurosaki Ichigo and his son probably welcomed the challenge. They were exactly right for each other.

But he remembered Albus Dumbledore well.

The man… he _meddled._

The last time he had set foot in Hogwarts, it had been 1942…

Perhaps he was overdue for a visit.

* * *

The Kurosaki family had spent the rest of Kazui’s school holiday getting supplies for Ulqui to join him when he returned as well as just being together as a family. Ulqui had shown a keen interest in the guitar that Ichigo played and so he had begun to teach him, Ulqui taking to the instrument with an intense passion that Ichigo hadn’t foreseen. He clearly loved music and was learning far more quickly than his teacher had. 

Ichigo had been thrilled. Kazui just didn't have the patience or _stillness_ to sit for hours and practice. Ulqui had both qualities in spades and Ichigo was more than happy to teach him. 

Ulqui now had clothing that fit - something he still couldn't quite believe if the way he tugged at his new clothes from time to time was any indication. He had also received his own training wand. 

It was a simple thing, used for underaged wizards to learn control and focus. It had been a miracle device at calming Kazui’s strong accidental magic. Ulqui seemed to have far better control than Kazaui had had, but judging by the way his emerald eyes lit up each time he successfully cast a spell, he clearly loved the simple wand. 

Kazui had insisted they visit as many places around town as possible, in order for Ulqui to feel more at home. So far, the smaller boy's favorite place seemed to be along the bank of the river that lazily flowed through Karakura Town, his small back against the bark of a tree, his beloved book of Aesop's Fables in his hands. He enjoyed quietly reading from the well-worn book to Kazui and Ichigo had been slightly amazed that his energetic son would just flop down next to him, sprawling out in the shade, still and relaxed as the quiet boy did so. 

The two had become nearly inseparable. Kazui took his role as older brother very seriously, always keeping an eye on the younger and involving him in everything, wanting him to feel welcome and to try everything he hadn't been able to in his decidedly, until now, deprived life. 

Like the ice cream parlor. And the pet shop that let you pet the animals. And the park - the one with the scary-old merry-go-round that Kazui knew just how to get to spin as fast as it could go. And… Really everything beyond the front yard was painfully new to the youngest member of the family. 

But the riverside remained Ulqui's favorite. It was the only place he actually requested they return to. Ichigo had asked him why, out of pure curiosity. 

"I like the sound of the water," Ulqui had responded. "And watching the sunset." They sat in silence for several minutes and Ichigo thought that, perhaps that was the extent of the answer he could hope to receive from the quiet child. But as the sun sank lower, painting the sky vibrant shades of violet, orange, and red, Ulqui continued. 

"I always had to be in my cupboard before nightfall. And the white-sanded desert in my memories… There was only ever night - the day artificial, the sun false and stationary in the sky. Never a sunset, never a sunrise, and all the water lay buried beneath. So, I guess, it's because this place is so different from all that. I… I feel like I'm finally free… From both pasts. Like this is what's real now. Like…"

The boy fell silent, his emerald eyes clouded, and Ichigo reached out, taking his small hand. 

That had been the most Ulqui had said to him up until that point. And, mostly, without prompting. 

"I understand," Ichigo said softly, his smile warm as he felt for his youngest son. 

After that conversation, the small Kurosaki family returned to the riverside, to sit in the shade, to listen to the water, to watch the sun dip below the horizon…

…every evening… 

…Kazui, pulling gently on his younger brother's hand, leading the way. 

* * *

Later at dinner one night, Ichigo watched with widened eyes as a Jigokucho, one of the hell butterflies of Soul Society that were used as guides and messengers, fluttered toward to alight upon his shoulder. He was even more startled to hear the voice of Toshiro Hitsugaya come from the small, fragile creature.

_“Dumbledore will expect Harry’s attendance for his first year at Hogwarts on September the First, after his eleventh birthday. He understands that his brother may be attending with him. Neither the British Wizarding Ministry nor Dumbledore’s Order will interfere with his placement in your care. Keep your word.”_

Ichigo remained unmoving as the Jigokucho flit away, the beautiful black wings silent and carrying a great weight off of his shoulders along with them. He repeated the youngest captain’s words in his mind, _Neither the British Wizarding Ministry_ **_nor Dumbledore’s Order_ ** _will interfere with his placement in your care._ He just felt so… relieved. Legally, he knew Orihime working alongside Urahara had made it next to impossible for their new son to be taken from them but to have the reassurance that _Dumbledore_ would not interfere…

He hadn’t realized when it had happened but… over the past few days Ulqui had wormed his into his heart. 

_“You’ll take care of him?”_

_“Of course. He’s a Kurosaki now, my son.”_

_“...Keep your word.”_

Toshiro had nothing to worry about, his words were the simple truth, especially now. Next week Ulqui would join Kazui in attending Mahoutokoro and begin learning how to control his potent magic. He was certain Kazui would keep an eye on his little brother - and keep his fellow classmates safe. It was fortunate that Ulqui didn’t seem to have the difficulty with accidental magic that Kazui had demonstrated before attending classes and learning control. Both of his sons were so strong. And they obviously cared a great deal for each other. But then, Kazui was a truly unique soul, he didn’t think anyone could resist that smile for long.

It was Ulqui’s full acceptance of their family that had surprised him. It was definitely a welcome surprise, and honestly, if Ichigo thought about it more deeply, it shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. Ulquiorra, even before, had shown that he had begun to care for Orihime. So the seed, _the heart,_ had already been there.

Toshiro's words were excellent news and Ichigo felt himself smiling. He was also interested and amused in Toshiro’s preemptive actions. He had never known the icy captain to involve himself in this way, especially in the affairs of the living, but then he didn’t really know him that well at all. He shook his head. As curious as it was, he doubted the dour seeming-teen would confide his reasons in him anyway. He almost released a laugh at the preposterous thought. No point on dwelling on something he’d never know the real answer to. Toshiro didn’t seem to _do_ feelings. The idea of having a heart to heart with the other really was humorous.

Orihime lightly touched his arm and his smile turned into a bright grin, “It was good news,” he answered the un-asked question. He smiled at his two boys sitting so properly, their food forgotten as they waited for him to continue. “Seems that Toshiro took care of our other obstacle. Ulqui will need to attend Hogwarts, but we already were prepared for that. Other than that one condition, Wizarding Britain will not try to take him from us.”

Kazui gave a squeal in excitement, immediately out of his seat and pulling Ulqui into a tight hug as he exclaimed, “Isn’t that great Ulqui?! Now we don’t have to worry about anyone coming to take you from us!” 

Ulqui tentatively returned Kazui’s hug and the slightly older boy beamed. Ulqui’s large emerald eyes found Ichigo’s as he said, “Please, thank Hitsugaya-taicho for me.”

Ichigo did laugh then, though from the look in his son's emerald eyes, Ulqui couldn’t fathom why. Ulqui had shown an interest in the captain ever since his brief visit and the return of his few cherished belongings. However, not even Rukia, a fellow captain, could inform the small child about the man that had actually seen the house Ulqui had fled. Renji had the most experience interacting with the Taicho of Squad 10, but none of those stories had been particularly enlightening. Toshiro was brilliant at strategy, diligent, dutiful, and had a legendary short fuse and sharp tongue for incompetence and disrespect. Renji seemed adamant that Toshiro was impossible to get close to and the few that had tried had only come back exasperated or in tears - sometimes both. 

Ichigo had also been highly amused that, no matter how many times he referred to the captain as "Toshiro", Ulqui never failed to address him as "Hitsugaya-taicho". 

Could it really be that simple? Ichigo couldn’t help but muse. No way Toshiro went out of his way simply because Ulqui actually used his beloved title the way the captain wanted others to. He laughed again at the ridiculous thought. No - if he knew _anything_ about Toshiro, his reasons were definitely more than that - but it probably _had_ helped and that was beyond amusing to the former substitute shinigami. 

“I’ll be sure to pass that along, if I see him Ulqui. However, I have a feeling that won’t be for a long time. He’s a very solitary man, you know. I’ve never known him to pay a social visit.”

Emerald eyes glazed over and Ichigo had begun to understand that meant his younger son was lost within a memory of his past life…

Ulqui’s eyes were still hazy as he responded, “No companion… He must feel so alone…”

Ichigo was sharply reminded that there was an ancient awareness behind those young eyes. Perhaps he was correct, maybe Toshiro really was lonely. Ichigo had certainly felt that way, even with friends around him that he knew he could confide in. It wasn’t until he felt like he could truly rely on Orihime that he hadn’t felt isolated from the others around him. 

He wondered if Toshiro had anyone like that? 

“I think you may be right, Ulqui,” he responded. “I’ll invite him over, reach out - maybe he will accept.”

Ulqui nodded, his expression far too serious for a boy of seven, and Ichigo smiled fondly at him. Then he had an idea. “Maybe he would respond, if you were the one who wrote the letter?”

The serious expression turned confused so Ichigo elaborated, “He intervened on your behalf, Ulqui, he was not asked to do so. He did so because he wanted to. I think that the gratitude - and invitation - would be more meaningful to him, coming from you.”

Ulqui nodded, his expression clearing as he understood, and immediately he tugged his way out of Kazui’s hold and turned to walk out of the room.

“Ulqui?” Orihime called after him, “Don’t you want to finish your dinner?”

“Later,” the quiet child responded, “I have something important to do first.”

Orihime almost went after him but Ichigo caught her arm, saying, “Let him go ‘Hime, it’ll be on his mind otherwise. I’ll place his dinner in a container and he’ll eat it when he’s done. Honestly, I’m relieved that he knows he _can_ still eat later, that he trusts us not to deny him food.”

Orihime stilled at that statement, nodding and sitting back down. Kazui glanced between his food and where Ulqui had gone and Ichigo stated firmly, “Eat Kazui, I think we should let him write this on his own, he doesn’t need you hovering, as well-meaning as your actions would be.”

Kazui deflated a bit but nodded, sliding back into his seat. 

Ichigo also returned to his meal but his thoughts remained firmly on his newest son… so young and yet, at the same time, far older than any of them. He would need to remember that - that as much as he was a child, he also _wasn’t,_ and he would need his space and autonomy. Would need their trust in his decisions. 

Ichigo would be sure he received it. His son’s mind was complex, to say the least, but he would make sure he knew that he had their support. 

After all, such support was a very important part of taking care of him.

And he _always_ kept his word.

* * *

Ulqui was keeping the memory that had resurfaced firmly in his head. This was important - he had to write it down before the details wisped away from him. Otousan had a good point, and he couldn’t help but feel like, like this memory needed to be shared… 

…Needed to be shared with the reclusive shinigami captain that had aided him in such a profound and subtle way. He knew the other hadn’t done it so that Ulqui would owe him, but he did, and learning about the other’s lack of companionship…

He reminded him so much of himself.

And so, determined, he carefully used one of his new quills to put ink to parchment, and scribed his story.

His gratitude.

And a request.

* * *

“Taicho~!”

Toshiro looked up at his lieutenant as she half sung - half called his title. 

“What is it, Matsumoto?” he asked with clear exhaustion in his voice.

“Oh, Taicho, you sound so tired!”

A fine white eyebrow twitched and he took a very controlled breath before stating, “That tends to happen when one does both the paperwork of a captain _and_ a lieutenant.”

“Ah, don’t be like that, you would just go over it again anyway if I did my share - this way at least one of us keeps their energy up in case we’re needed!”

Toshiro didn’t say anything to that. It was an excuse, but it was also a good one because she was right - he did tend to skim through the little paperwork his lieutenant completed. But that was only because she did it so irregularly that she didn’t always remember the proper way to fill each form. Or at least, that’s what she claimed. If she actually did her work _consistently,_ it wouldn’t be a problem.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he enabled her too much. But any errors reflected poorly on the division he led and he couldn’t stand being looked down upon.

“Did you need something?” he muttered instead, signing another form before rotating his delicate wrist and grabbing the next form from the large stack.

“Oh! Yes!” Matsumoto pulled a thick letter from her shihakusho and plopped it on the form he was currently looking over. Teal eyes narrowed at it as she said, “Rukia brought that from Living World earlier, said to deliver it to you directly but she didn’t know what it was about. Is it from Ichigo?”

Toshiro, noting the “To: Hitsugaya-taicho” written in elegant script with black ink upon the front, knew that this letter was definitely _not_ from Kurosaki Ichigo.

He quickly tucked it into his own shihakusho before replying, “Was there anything else?”

Matsumoto deflated as she sighed, “No…”

“Good, then please go observe the new recruit’s in their afternoon training. They could do with your expertise.”

Matsumoto lit up at the subtle praise, snapped her hand in a salute and exclaimed, “Yes sir!” before bouncing out of his office. Toshiro shook his head fondly at her exit. She really was a capable lieutenant at everything but paperwork. 

He was also certain she had achieved her bankai but was keeping that underwraps. Matsumoto was far from stupid - she saw how buried all the captains were under work. That kind of stress simply wasn’t for her, would crush her free spirit. He wouldn’t be surprised if her supposed aversion to paperwork was a ploy to keep her out of a captain’s seat. No one in their right mind would promote a shinigami to a captain’s chair that wasn’t capable of filing the many, varied forms required of them. But Matsumoto _was_ capable - she just played the part well. 

Toshiro wasn’t fooled.

They had a good system, however. She dealt with the other duties required of leadership of a squad, such as the training of their members. This also had the consequence of further isolating Toshiro from the rest of his squad, but they were loyal to him all the same, their captain more myth than man to them. 

It suited him fine.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Breathing out a slow breath, he set down his brush and pulled the letter from his shihakusho, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Inside there were several pages of parchment, similar to what he had used so many years ago when he had attended Hogwarts on an investigatory mission into a curious soul-magic incident. He carefully unfolded the pages, his touch light to prevent the ink from smearing.

Teal eyes widened at the elegantly scripted words. 

_I was born in the bottom of a pit… where no light shown._

_As if pressed together by darkness, uncertain of what to become… born under those dark, dark sediments._

_I had a white form…_

_My comrades were all…_

**_...pure black._ **

_In those black forms, with their eyes shining and teeth baring, they were certainly eating something._

_And then…_

_There was nothing to me..._

_...but my eyes._

_I felt nothing._

_Or rather, it was possible that what I felt was the “void”, yet…_

_I could hear nothing._

_I could bite nothing._

_I could smell nothing._

_I could feel nothing I touched._

_I could not rest._

_I had no companion._

_Just walking alone._

_I used to believe that, if such a thing called happiness exists in this world, that it should be something which resembles the limitless nothingness. Nihility is having nothing, and having nothing to lose._

_If that isn’t “happiness”, I thought, then what is?_

_I thought that the things reflected in my eyes had no meaning… That the things that could not be reflected in my eyes did not exist._

_That there was nothing._

_Nothing in you._

_And nothing in me._

_I don’t think that anymore._

_Because now I can feel beyond the “void”._

_I can hear._

_I can bite._

_I can smell._

_I can feel what I touch._

_I can rest._

_I have companions._

_I’m no longer walking alone._

_I haven’t had many of these things for long. They seem fragile, easily broken, but there is a capacity for strength to them, given time._

_Time that, as I understand it, you have helped to give me._

_I wanted to thank you, but the words alone don’t convey the proper meaning. So I wanted to tell you a bit more of my time before… So that you would understand that I understood exactly what you have helped to protect._

_Because I do understand - what it is like to have the absence of these things._

_To truly be alone._

_To be isolated._

_It had not bothered me before, before I understood exactly what I was missing in their absence._

_But I know now. And I never wish to return to that solitary state._

_So,_

_Thank you._

_I can’t help but think… that perhaps you are also without a companion, that it is because you also understand that solitary state only too well, that you acted on your own to keep me from…_

_...from becoming like you._

_I’m not sure why you isolated yourself, if your reasons were anything similar to my own. Even after I had gained my other senses, my power still isolated me. Perhaps, you are the same? No one here knows, not really, they can’t tell me about your past. Just that you don’t seem to have any close connections, that you do not make social visits, that you don’t… seem to have friends._

_I’d like to be your friend, if you’d allow me._

_I’m not sure I’ll be good at it but… It’s the very least I can do._

_And… I find myself… wanting to know you. It’s an odd feeling, one I am not familiar with, but the feeling remains, all the same._

_Please visit us, whenever you are able. I have been told that you are a captain and very busy though so, I understand if you do not feel that you can._

_But maybe, you could find the time to return this letter?_

_Thank you for your time,_

_Ulqui Kurosaki_

Toshiro couldn’t help but read the letter several times. He - well he didn’t know what he had expected but it wasn’t this. This was not the voice of a child. This was the hollow that had wondered the white sands of Hueco Mundo - alone, evidently - memories of before he had been made into an Espada. He had not realized that the child’s memories had been as clear as this. 

It was… fascinating. He had never before even heard of such clear recollection in a reincarnation, of a vasto lorde’s soul remaining intact after dying. Their souls were a collection, made from the many other souls they devoured…

Except… 

Teal eyes swept over the pages once again, catching on a few key lines… 

_There was nothing to me..._

_...but my eyes._

_I could bite nothing._

Had Ulquiorra ever devoured another soul? The way this read, it didn’t sound like he had even been _capable_ of doing such an act. And he knew from reports on the remaining Espada that, after they were transformed by the Hyogoku, they no longer felt the compulsion to feed like full hollows did. They could completely ignore it. Queen Harribel, he knew, hadn’t eaten a single soul since her transformation into an Espada, and she hadn’t suffered for it, her power clearly intact. 

But an Espada that had _never_ devoured another…

He supposed that explained how he had remained whole through reincarnation. It _should_ have been impossible…

Except for a hollow that consisted of only a single soul.

A soul that was now reaching out to him, his hand open in friendship.

Toshiro didn’t have friends, not really. The other was completely correct about that. Matsumoto cared for him and he for her, but he kept her at a distance. And what little fondness was between himself and Momo… Aizen had stripped that to pieces, fractured it beyond any real hope of repair. Not that Toshiro was motivated to attempt to reconnect with his estranged sister. It was necessary - his power was so dangerous - he couldn’t afford to let anyone close.

The memory of Matsumoto waking him, of seeing that he was slowly _killing his grandmother in their sleep_ still haunted him. Because he still didn’t have full control, almost one hundred years later. His body grew more slowly than any other shinigami’s. No one asked why, but he knew. His body grew as his mastery over his own power did. And he still had plenty of room to grow.

Maybe someday, when he was certain he would not harm someone he cared for with a slip in his control, maybe then he could have the companionship that Ulqui had found in the Kurosaki family.

For now…

_But maybe, you could find the time to return this letter?_

He supposed a correspondence could do no harm.


	6. The Wind and the Sun

_The Wind and the Sun were disputing which was the stronger. Suddenly they saw a traveller coming down the road, and the Sun said: "I see a way to decide our dispute. Whichever of us can cause that traveller to take off his cloak shall be regarded as the stronger. You begin."_

_So the Sun retired behind a cloud, and the Wind began to blow as hard as it could upon the traveller. But the harder he blew the more closely did the traveller wrap his cloak round him, till at last the Wind had to give up in despair._

_Then the Sun came out and shone in all his glory upon the traveller, who soon found it too hot to walk with his cloak on._

_Kindness effects more than severity._

* * *

Shūbun no Hi, the autumnal equinox was upon them and the Kurosaki family were enjoying the holiday. Ulqui had now been with them for just over six weeks and attending classes at Mahoutokoro with Kazui for the past three. He had fallen into a comfortable rhythm at the school, only starting a few months after his peers had - the rest of his class, including Kazui, had started at the end of March while he had joined at the end of the summer break - and already he was caught up in his studies. He felt accepted there, even if he remained reserved and barely spoke to the other children.

Kazui was like a star, others gravitated towards his presence, but he always made sure to make Ulqui a priority and included him - sometimes dragging him - in his many activities with others. Ulqui didn’t really mind, was in fact a bit fascinated at watching all the different and varied interactions between his fellow students. They were polite to him, often even granting him a smile, which was decidedly an odd experience, but then it was difficult to not smile around Kazui. His positivity was infectious and Ulqui found himself giving small smiles in return.

Those at Mahoutokoro only knew him as Harry Ulqui Kurosaki. The professors were aware of his recent adoption but not the details so, as of yet, he was able to live with a bit of anonymity - nothing more than the popular Kurosaki’s quiet younger brother. 

His teachers adored his genuine desire to learn. He had caught up to his fellow students after the first week and had started accepting extra, more rigorous work by the third. His writing was not that of a seven-year-old’s but, neither was his pattern of speech, and his professors did not question if it was actually the small child turning in such well thought out and organized essays. 

Magic was, well, magical. It was exciting to use and felt warmth rush through him everytime he used it, like it was also happy being used. The training wand had helped him focus his magic and made spells far easier but he had discovered that, if he used his imagination properly, he was able to use his index finger as a similar focus. It wasn’t dissimilar to charging a cero - Ichigo had informed him that was the name for the green light he had used to level half of Privet Drive. 

A hollow ability.

He had seen a few hollows since moving here. He didn’t know if they were actually more common in his new home or if being mostly confined to the house at his Aunt and Uncle’s had prevented him from noticing them in England. Ichigo had said that it was likely a mix of both - that hollows were drawn to strong spiritual pressure and Karakura Town had more than was usual with so many captain-level shinigami living here, not to mention spiritually aware humans - or fullbringers, as they were called - with their own powers. 

He’d met a few of them - Orihime and Kazui were fullbringers themselves - and they’d seemed nice, their powers all very unique and interesting. Orihime could reject any phenomenon - a skill Ulqui was still trying to exactly understand - and Ichigo said he had once been able to wear his shinigami powers as a fullbring ability, though he had lost that capability after his powers had been stolen from him. His shinigami powers were restored by many members of the Gotei 13 all providing him a portion of their own reiatsu, but he could no longer use his fullbring as he once had. 

Kazui had both.

His brother was able to use both of his parent’s fullbring abilities. He wasn’t very skilled with rejecting phenomena, but Ulqui had seen him repair a torn sleeve without even really thinking about it. Obviously he was very comfortable using his fullbring to wear shinigami powers - he did so daily in order to practice with his zanpakuto. He said he couldn’t hear the spirit within yet but was hopeful. Ichigo had gently told him that, as it was really a fullbring ability and not a true zanpakuto, he may not have a spirit. 

Ulqui added that he didn’t have a spirit either, that his sword was just a manifestation of his power but there was no spirit within Murciélago. The name just came to him when he held the blade, like it couldn’t have been named anything else. Ichigo had commented that he wasn’t sure if that was usual for Arrancar - hollows made to be similar to shinigamis - or not. He only knew a few Arrancar and he had never thought to ask. Ulqui hadn’t met any of them yet but Ichigo was sure that, at the very least, an Arrancar named Grimmjow could never stay away for long without looking for a spar.

Ulqui couldn’t help but think that name sounded awfully familiar.

In England he had been a freak. Not here. Here having oddities seemed more normal than not and he felt like he was finally home.

They were attending a festival later that night and Ulqui had an unfamiliar emotion of excitement within him. He’d never been to one before. Dudley, his cousin, had gone on and on about them, but he’d never been allowed to attend himself.

Today he finally would. He was finding it difficult to pass the time, waiting. He wasn’t used to looking forward to anything.

Kazui was working on his school work in the dining room - Ulqui had finished his the day it had been assigned. He no longer sat with him while he worked on it as the older boy couldn’t help but ask him far too many questions and Ulqui had a difficult time not answering him. But he knew his brother needed to struggle through the work a bit or he wouldn’t actually learn it so he made a deal with him. He wouldn’t sit with him while he worked on it but would still help if he actually got up and went to find him. But he’d need to remember what he wanted to ask, he couldn’t bring the work with him, and he’d have to remember Ulqui’s explanation until he returned to write it down. 

So far he’d only been sought out once today. His brother was bright, just a bit impatient. Now he only asked for help when he truly was stuck and his grades had improved the last couple of weeks as a result. Orihime had been so pleased that she insisted they celebrate as a family. Ulqui smiled at the memory, deciding that cake did taste fairly good. In small amounts - he had no idea how Kazui could stand to eat as many sweets as he did.

He decided to practice on the guitar that Ichigo had purchased for him. It was small, a children’s size, and inexpensive but it served its purpose, allowing him to learn and practice. Ichigo had taken the time to show him how to position his left hand in order to play all the different cords - the rest was all just practice and experimentation. He played around with different picking and strumming techniques, even laying the instrument across his lap to make different sounds and tap against the body of the instrument to add percussion. 

Each day he practiced and each day he was becoming more skilled. It helped that he honestly enjoyed it. The act was soothing to him, relaxing. And certain songs helped him deal with some of his more overwhelming emotions. 

Ichigo had a certain love for newer folk songs, Ben Howard’s material in particular, and Ulqui was endeavoring to learn as many as he could. Not just because it brought a smile to his adoptive father’s face, but also because he genuinely connected with them himself. 

He was currently learning the song "Everything" and it was proving to be a welcome challenge. Howard didn’t play the guitar in an ordinary manner so it was fun for him to try to mimic his unique way of playing his songs. Orihime had given him a smartphone to use after he started going to school everyday so that if anything happened he could contact them. He grabbed both the phone and the small guitar and made his way to perch on top of the roof using a bit of shunpo. 

He had daily training with Ichigo, Kazui happily joining in, and he'd begun to develop the same skills his elder brother had. He wasn't as fast or agile - yet - but he was steadily improving. 

He was able to summon and banish Murciélago with ease and he'd learned several katas. He wasn't quite ready to spar with Kazui, who could easily get carried away, but he had done so several times with Ichigo. He found sparring to be comfortable, fun even, and he usually found himself disappointed to stop when Orihime called them in for dinner. Another oddly novel feeling… He’d never cared enough to be disappointed before.

His new mother was a very unusual but good cook. Orihime tended to mix ingredients together that didn't sound appetizing in the least and yet, somehow, it worked. Ulqui knew how to cook - at least he knew how to cook common English meals due to his aunt demanding he learn or starve - and he was aware that what Orihime made was odd - and not because of a difference in culture. 

He volunteered to help out, especially with breakfast in the mornings. He didn’t mind cooking for his _family_ who were nothing like the unfortunate relatives he had escaped from. Ichigo seemed very thankful for the change of pace from Orihime's oddities. Ulqui could tell he actually did like her food, though he teased her, but was also appreciative to have a nice, boring, recognizable meal from time to time.

Ichigo also could cook, sort of, but didn't really enjoy it. He usually only did so to give Orihime a break on particularly long and stressful days at work. He was really only good at making curry but it tasted so good no one minded the repeated dish. Especially Kazui, his honeyed amber eyes practically glowing with excitement every time Ichigo cooked. 

Ichigo was nearly always with them - as a college English professor that only had to physically be on campus for his handful of classes each week and his office hours, he was always home when the boys were. Orihime’s schedule was far less predictable but it was clear she loved her work. As a consequence, Ulqui found himself becoming more used to Ichigo and the fear that had lingered between the two was beginning to fade. Ichigo was still just as terrifyingly strong but Ulqui was beginning to feel more protected by that strength than threatened by it.

Kazui was a huge help to whoever was cooking, especially if it involved chopping anything. For someone so young he was terrifyingly skilled with practically any blade he got his hands on. His parents long ago simply accepted this and just told him to be careful and, for the most part, he was. Ulqui had not once seen his older brother cut himself, only be cut by another during training and even that was rare.

Settling onto the roof, he propped his phone up with the stand attached to its case and played the Youtube video of Ben Howard’s live performance of [“Everything”](https://youtu.be/vPxTJMQM6eo) so that he could watch how he played. The video didn’t focus on the guitar the entire time but it was enough that he could figure out the missing parts. He was getting better at playing by ear - it was like a puzzle and he enjoyed both the intellectual and dexterous challenge involved. As the video played he did his best to play with it, small fingers upon the strings, emerald eyes flickering back and forth in careful concentration. He played it on repeat, gaining more confidence and the sound becoming more accurate and clear with each play through.

_And the birds still sing outside these windows where we sat together, like nothing ever happened here. The white house on the hill and black clouds - the weather - and the church spire over the river… She still sits there, warm in the evening glow._

He softly sang under his breath, almost without noticing, the words memorized after the first few times he had heard the song. He never had a problem remembering such things, it came easily. Far more difficult for him was to write his own; putting words to his own emotions and feelings proved to be a challenge he hadn’t yet been able to conquer. He didn’t always understand what he was feeling but maybe… with time…

_But you don't care about these scenes I treasure…_

_Of these west winds..._

_I know._

_I know._

_Seems everything around here stays like stone._

_Seems it's about time darling…_

_…about time we let this all go._

He had done that, once, a long, long time ago. Had buried himself within sharp white branches, shattering something that most guarded with singular focus. He had chosen to discard it.

His mask.

His heart.

He hadn’t cared if it killed him. He had been so certain…

…certain he didn’t need it.

_Oh everything will start again anew…_

_…cause everything just goes away my friend…_

_…and every king knows it to be true that every kingdom must one day come to an end._

Perhaps that was sad… He got the impression that it was to others, anyway. But his life had never been one he wanted to hold onto, never something he would miss. So, rather than something to dread, the inevitability of change, the nihility of existence... 

…was comforting.

_And the sun - she may be long gone, lost to these memories we've found - but she'll be here when it's all done, when our bodies are laid beneath the ground._

_Seems everything that goes around, comes, comes around here…_

_Seems everything that stays here somehow gets me down again…_

He had felt that way, in the house at Privet Drive. Small moments of joy, like when his teachers would say he had done something well, or he had been able to curl up in the library without being disturbed for a few stolen hours… Those moments never stayed. The only things he had to look forward to, the only real constants, was the solitude of his cupboard, a faded blue blanket, a bat with a torn wing, and a book he’d learn to read in the dark.

Small comforts, perhaps, but they were all he had. 

All he had to lose. 

But good things didn’t stay, so it was fine, really, having to leave them behind. The trade was more than worth it.

And then they were inexplicably and selflessly returned… 

_Oh everything will start again anew…_

_…cause everything just goes away my friend…_

_…and every king knows it to be true that every kingdom must one day come to an end._

Endings were fine - after all they brought new beginnings. Ulqui had never minded them, never felt strongly enough to want time to move forward or stand still. He didn’t _want_ anything, not really. Because it wouldn’t matter, meant nothing. Desire was a useless motivation because, ultimately, time would move forward, without any regard to wants or wishes. 

It didn’t make sense to desire.

To want.

To miss.

But that first night, sleeping in a real bed, with real blankets, and a real pillow…

He had missed his blanket…

Bat…

And book…

And it hadn’t made any sense. He tossed and turned when he should have been experiencing the best sleep in his short life, given the superior comfort of the situation.

He’d been awake already when Ichigo came to collect him, Kazui waking at the sound of the door opening but clearly still drowsy, though he insisted on accompanying his new little brother to meet his unexpected visitor. 

The captain of the Seireitei’s 10th division.

Toshiro Hitsugaya.

_“Hitsugaya-taicho?” Ulqui had asked, his voice clear, no trace of sleep._

_Ichigo laughed, “Yeah, that’s right.” Ulqui didn’t really understand why Ichigo seemed so amused._

_“Is that not the proper address?”_

_Ichigo shook his head, still smiling widely, catching Kazui as he leapt into his arms to be carried. “It is. And of course you would use it. He’s very particular about it, is all. He doesn’t like anyone addressing him with familiarity. And you,” he said pointedly to Kazui, “aren’t you too big for this?”_

_“‘m still sleep…”_

_Ichigo laughed again, adjusting Kazui to be supported by one arm, his other hand reaching out for Ulqui to hold. “Ready?”_

_Ulqui nodded, taking the offered hand and following him to the dining room where the captain of the 10th division sat, waiting patiently._

_He was inspecting them, Ulqui could immediately tell. This captain was a man that took careful note of people and surroundings. His teal eyes rapidly swept over them and then paused, locked with emerald for the space of several heartbeats. Then Ulqui blinked and the gaze was gone, focused instead on Kazui as his brother asked, “Who’s that?” yawning again at the end of his short question._

_“That is Toshiro Hitsugaya,” Kurosaki said again, mostly for Kazui’s benefit who was clearly too tired to have been properly paying attention the first time Ichigo had explained back in the room. “He is the captain of Soul Society’s Tenth Division. He’s here to see Ulqui.”_

_Kazui seemed to wake up a bit more, peering at the captain with rounded amber eyes. Ulqui stepped forward, his voice soft and clear, his address mindful of the captain’s no-doubt hard-earned position as he asked, “You are here to see me, Hitsugaya-taicho?”_

_The captain’s expression softened and Ulqui couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful when he smiled._

_“Yes,” he said, just as softly, “But I’ve seen all I need.”_

_He stood and nodded to Ichigo, “I will let myself out, clearly I have imposed upon your morning enough.” His teal eyes slid to Kazui who Ulqui noted was nodding off again._

_Ichigo shifted Kazui slightly as he responded, “You don’t need to leave so suddenly, Toshiro, you could stay for breakfast at least.” Ulqui found himself privately agreeing. He wasn’t certain why, but he actually wanted the captain to accept the offer._

_Emerald eyes blinked. He couldn’t remember actually wanting something before, never seeing the utility in such a thing. How odd._

_Toshiro shook his head, “It’s best I return and settle this matter immediately. Thank you, for the offer.”_

_Teal eyes slid down to emerald, Ulqui still a bit lost in his own confusion over the foreign experience of actually wanting something and inexplicably sad that he would be denied, before they flickered back to Ichigo, asking, “You’ll take care of him?”_

_He was asking about himself, making sure Ichigo would take care of him. Why? Why would he care? And he did care - Ulqui could tell. He didn’t understand emotions well but he was very good at reading them. The winter-haired captain wanted an honest answer and he somehow got the feeling that, should the answer not be what he was looking for, he wouldn’t be pleased._

_Were that to actually happen, Ulqui couldn’t help but wonder... What would he do?_

_“Of course,” Ichigo responded, immediately and with conviction, “He’s a Kurosaki now, my son.”_

_Ulqui noticed a flash of approval in those captivating teal eyes before the captain nodded and abruptly showed himself out._

_Ulqui blinked after him, memorizing his form with observant emerald eyes. He had honestly never met anyone like that before… In either life - he was sure._

_He would have remembered._

_Ichigo was sitting Kazui at the table and Ulqui joined them, sliding into a chair. Large emerald eyes widened, blinking at the items sitting innocuously in front of him._

_His blanket…_

_Bat…_

_And book…_

_He reached for them, silently, softly running his fingertips over them, as if not believing they were really there. Hitsugaya-taicho… He had to have been the one to deliver them, to return them to him._

_And he hadn’t asked for a single thing in return…_

_Hadn’t waited for Ulqui to realize what he had done, to thank him…_

_Didn’t do this to be praised._

_Twin tears fell from bright emerald eyes, feeling overwhelmed with emotion he had no ability to understand. His chest felt clenched around…_

_…around his heart._

_Is this what people meant, when they said their heart ached? He thought it only happened when they were overcome with sorrow._

_He had no idea it could happen when you were overcome with joy._

_He felt Kazui’s hand upon his arm and quickly wiped at the tears, letting the touch of his brother center and ground him, hands still running softly over the treasured possessions he had thought he had lost forever._

_“You okay Ulqui?” Kazui asked, keeping his voice quiet so as not to alert their father. Ulqui was grateful for that - his brother could be quite perceptive when he wanted to be._

_“Yes, I am, just… I think I’m happy.”_

_Kazui beamed and asked, “Because?” as he gestured at the items on the table._

_“Yes,” Ulqui answered, because that was the easiest answer he could give. But he knew it was much more than that. Yes, the return of the items that he had actually grown attached to - and that was an odd realization in and of itself - made him happy. But it was more so the way they had been returned._

_He had never experienced someone doing something so completely unnecessary for no obvious gain for themselves._

_Perhaps the 10th division captain had a purpose for taking these specific items but to just leave them here, without any expectation or acknowledgement of the debt that had been incurred… Maybe he didn’t see it that way. Maybe, to him, the matter was small and trivial, not worth acknowledging. Ulqui didn’t understand why it meant so much to him either._

_But it did._

_And the memory of those assessing teal eyes… Noticing everything about him in a single sweeping glance…_

_The captain clearly knew it too. And yet this was how he had chosen to act._

_Ulqui found himself utterly fascinated._

_The clinking of a plate in front of him brought him from his thoughts, face lighting up at the sight of a real breakfast - one he had done nothing in order to deserve. Emerald eyes caught deep chocolate brown and the encouraging smile on his new father’s face. What was it with these people? Why were they so…_

_Kind._

_That’s what it was._

_Kindness._

_He would need to investigate further… And he would start by learning all he could about a certain captain with icy teal eyes that melted when he smiled._

He hadn’t been all that successful. Ichigo knew very little about Hitsugaya-taicho, only having a handful of meetings with him as, even when they’d worked together on missions, they weren’t actually with each other all that often. He said that the captain had a dry sense of humor that often came off as being cold. He was very distant, to everyone. Even his lieutenant had trouble convincing him to join in anything unrelated to work.

_“He liked soccer, I think. At least enough to play with Karin’s team a couple of times - and he’s not the type of person to do anything he wasn’t ordered or wanted to do. He was usually just off on his own though, when he wasn’t actively working the case. Usually looking at the sky…”_

Ulqui could relate. Watching the sky was one of his favorite things to do when he wasn’t practicing or training. Just watching the heavens move as Earth turned beneath, letting his thoughts wander where they may… He never properly saw the sky at Privet Drive, except when he walked to and from school or was “asked” to work out in the garden. Especially the night sky, the sunrise, the sunset.

They were beautiful, and almost completely unique to his time living here. Because before he would have already been locked in his cupboard for the night… And before that… The white dessert… The sky there was as static as the ground beneath. A realm that simply was, not a world in a sea of stars.

He paused in his playing, emerald eyes watching as white clouds drifted by against the bright blue. The video continued playing, unnoticed. He let the calm stillness overtake his mind as he just observed the world for a moment. 

Orihime had known a bit more about the reclusive captain as his lieutenant had stayed with her during their mission to Karakura Town during before the Winter War. In fact, Hitsugaya had stayed as well, though he was usually up on the roof. Ulqui smiled at the thought. He could picture him wanting to escape the two bubbly women. As much as he cared for his mother, she could be as energetic as Kazui at times and Ulqui sometimes found himself grabbing his guitar and shunpo-ing to the roof to recenter himself and recharge. He adored them both - but they were also exhausting.

Orihime smiled knowingly at him every time he would dismiss himself, usually without a word. 

_“Hitsugaya-taicho would often do the same. Rangiku, his lieutenant, is very kind and helped me through some things - some feelings I had been working through. She always spoke very highly of her captain but constantly lamented that he was always off by himself. She worried over him, I could tell. And he was always kind to me, if a bit cold perhaps._

_“He would be more lively around Rangiku, but I think that’s just because she knew how to tease him and get away with it. I’m sure he’s fond of her, in his own way, but he never spoke about himself when he was here and if Rangiku knew anything, she didn’t share. I think they’ve been through a lot together._

_“Hitsugaya-taicho may look young but he was always very responsible and diligent. Rangiku was clearly proud to be his lieutenant, as much as she teased him for being such a “stick in the mud” and saying, “You’re no fun taicho!” Still, somehow they worked well together, and Rangiku isn’t the type of person to like someone just because it’s respectful, so I’m sure he treats her well. He’s definitely a puzzle though.”_

_She smiled as her youngest son, “You’re determined to figure that puzzle out, aren’t you?”_

_“Hn…” Ulqui hadn’t really agreed but he knew she was right. The 10th division captain interested him, somehow so cold yet so kind. It was almost vexing how contradictory he was._

_“Well, good luck Ulqui. If anyone can, I’m sure it’s you.”_

He had simply nodded before retreating back to his roof with his guitar, unsure of what she had meant. Why would he have any better luck than anyone else? She seemed sure though.

But then, she was also very strange, so perhaps he shouldn’t think too much about it.

He’d also asked Rukia and Renji before they’d left, although they were even less helpful. Renji said Rangiku was very protective over her captain’s privacy and no matter how drunk they got her, they could never pry anything out of her. And Rukia rarely saw either the captain or his lieutenant except at captain’s meetings and there he only spoke when it was about a mission. 

Even Urahara was unhelpful as he’d been banished long before Hitsugaya-taicho entered the Shinon Academy. He’d only needed one year to graduate and had been placed as third seat immediately after - a prodigy. Then, after the captain of their division had mysteriously disappeared - to have a family, it seemed, as he was Ichigo’s father - he became captain himself as he had achieved his Bankai while Rangiku, the lieutenant even back then, hadn’t. 

He had then sought out Isshin, his now grandfather, as he determined that if anyone could tell him about the current 10th division captain, it would be the previous one that trained him. But he only reported the same as everyone else. He didn’t know Hitsugaya-taicho’s history before joining the division, only that there was something that had happened at the end of his time in the Academy that had both promoted him straight to a third seat and was highly classified. 

_“Kid never talked about his past. He visited his grandmother though, frequently, as I remember. He was from the Rukongai… Life isn’t usually easy there - the shinigami that come from Rukongai, well, none of them speak about it much. He was a fantastic third seat though, never complained about paperwork, even did Rangiku’s share._

_“She loves that kid, that’s obvious. Only time I’ve ever seen her angry was when someone was disrespecting him in some way. Not that he couldn’t handle himself. I had never seen such a powerful shinigami so young. I knew he’d make a great captain. At least that was some comfort, knowing I was leaving the 10th in his hands when I left. I couldn’t be more proud of him._

_“I’m sorry I can’t help you much other than that Ulqui. Even back then he tended to isolate himself from others. I’m not sure why.”_

And that was that. No one else left to ask.

And then Ichigo had suggested he write the captain a letter.

The idea was rather inspired and Ulqui found himself taking the charge quite seriously. The conversation before had drug up memories of his past life, of his beginning in that place of white sands and black demons. Of being different, even then. Set apart. Unable to join his kin.

He had not been saddened, had simply accepted his lot and sought to find some way…

Some way to feel…

…something.

Anything.

Being numb to all sensation other than sight… There was no color to life.

Only white.

The white of his body.

The white of the sand.

The white of the serrated branches he’d sunk into.

His mask…

His heart…

Broken.

And yet he still felt nothing.

Things were different now.

Now… 

Sometimes he felt too much.

He wondered, if he shattered his own heart again… This time…

Would he feel it?

He thought he might.

And as terrifying as that was, it was also exciting. Because he’d been numb for centuries, and his feelings so far in this life had been simple things. 

Sadness. 

Anger.

Fear. 

But since arriving here, in this house, his emotions were far more complex. It was dizzying sometimes, causing him to search out his peaceful roof just to sort through the mess. He’d put all he dared in a letter that served as a first impression to the man he’d come to admire. Admired not by reputation.

But through his actions.

He had returned to him the only things in this world that had meant anything to him for the first seven years of this life. In a sad way, they were like his friends. And Hitsugaya-taicho had reunited them.

And then, without prompting, he’d secured his place with his new family.

And still he’d asked for nothing.

No matter his intentions, if he indeed even had any, he had succeeded in securing Ulqui’s rapt attention. That only happened when he couldn’t figure something out. If there was one strong personality trait that had carried over from his life before, it was his inexhaustible curiosity and need to understand. He wouldn’t rest until he did, the mystery pulling at his mind until he had unraveled it to each individual thread and carefully sewed it back together again.

That was five weeks ago, when he wrote the letter. He had no real hope of a reply, the captain owed him nothing, and literally everyone emphasized how diligent he was with his work and that he was always busy. 

But still… 

He couldn’t help but feel like he was waiting for a reply…

Emerald eyes continued to watch the clouds, the song still playing on repeat although he was no longer really hearing it.

And then the sky tore open.

Emerald eyes widened. He’d seen this before - had caused it himself when he’d fled here. But he was certain he wasn’t the cause this time.

He had no reason to want to leave.

This was a garganta and it was specifically a hollow ability - Ichigo had been as thorough with his explanation of that side of Ulqui’s abilities as he was able. Ichigo actually had a hollow within him, one that he had lived with his entire life, inherited - in a way - from his mother. He’d seen him manifested only once during a training session. He looked identical to Ichigo, but his coloring was inverted and grayscale. The skin, hair, and shihakusho were a sharp white with bright gold eyes. 

A white hollow.

Like Ulqui had been.

The hollow was very playful and seemed really interested in Ulqui. He’d insisted they spar, expression gleeful and his laughter was a rather awful sound, his voice warbled and accented with a scream. 

_“Not bad, baby bat. But you can do better. Call me back out when you can fly.”_

That terrible laughter had lingered even as he vanished, returning to Ichigo’s inner world.

So he was familiar with other hollows. And there weren’t currently any around. That meant that the hollow that had opened this garganta was on the other side.

And would soon be stepping through.

He stood, pausing the music and stuffing the phone in the center pocket of his hoodie and carefully held the guitar by the neck. He itched to return it safely to his room but he was too fascinated at watching this strange ability from the outside. Ichigo was at his side a handful of seconds after he had stood, a strong hand on his thin, bony shoulder. He didn’t seem worried and so Ulqui relaxed, content to watch and wait.

“Kurosaki!!!” a man’s voice yelled from the other side, “You better be ready to get your ass kicked!”

The black of the garganta cleared to show a city with white walls and two people peering through. The man, likely the one that had yelled, had bright blue hair and eyes with a long, large scar across his exposed chest. The other was a woman with bright green hair, hazel eyes, and a kind expression. 

“Ichigo!!!” The woman cried out, leaping through the tear and towards his father. His arms were already opened, as if he was expecting this, and he easily caught the busty woman.

“Heya Nel, been a while. I’ve been expecting you two for a couple weeks now.”

“Aye! We’ve been busy Ichi-nii!!! Harribel-sama had us investigating a cero blast that happened a few weeks ago. We finally decided to see if the Seireitei had any information and, surprise surprise, it’s Ichigo’s adoptive son that released it!” She stepped back and her eyes snapped to Ulqui’s cautious emerald. He couldn’t help being a bit wary - he didn’t want the overly affectionate woman to hug _him_ as well. 

She gasped, taking another step back, the man coming to stand at her side, his arms crossed and glaring at Ulqui.

“Ulquiorra,” he growled, hand on the hilt of his zanpakuto.

“Down Grimmjow,” Ichigo scolded, “Allow me to introduce you to my _son._ This is Ulqui Kurosaki. 

The woman - Nel? - crouched down so that she was more at his level. “We spoke with the 10th division captain. He had said he was a reincarnation, but I didn’t expect him to look so similar… It’s eerie.” She cocked her head to the side and then abruptly smiled, “You make a pretty cute kid Ulqui-chan!”

Ulqui backed up so that he was slightly behind Ichigo’s leg, emerald eyes watching her warily. He really didn’t want her to pounce on him and she didn’t seem very… stable.

“Ulquiorra was always cute, Nel. It was his personality that made him such awful company. Prick thought everyone else was beneath him.”

“Trash,” Ulqui muttered, emerald eyes slightly glazed, a memory tugging at his mind.

Grimmjow growled in response.

“No Grimm,” Ichigo said, his expression serious, “he’s just a kid, he doesn’t have the strength he once had. Whatever hatchet you two had, you need to bury it or leave. I won’t have you harming any of my family.”

Grimmjow deflated a bit and sighed, “Wouldn’t be worth my time, as weak as he is now.” He nudged Nel with his foot, “Oi, Nelliel, aren’t you supposed to deliver something? Get it over with, I want my spar.”

“Oh!” She exclaimed, pulling a letter from her pocket. “It’s addressed to ‘Ulqui Kurosaki’. I suppose that’s you, hu?” She asked, her smile large and warm as she held it out towards him.

She had said they had come from a meeting with the 10th division captain. Ulqui immediately snatched the letter before giving the two a quick bow and asking his father, “Otousan, do you mind if I return to my room?”

Ichigo chuckled, “Go on, I know you’ve been waiting for that.”

He turned to leave, pausing as Grimm called after him, “Hey shrimp!” He turned, emerald eyes meeting blue, “It’s actually good to see ya. Stay alive and we’ll spar sometime, yeah?”

Ulqui nodded, still a bit unsettled by the other two. They didn’t seem exactly sane. But Ichigo wouldn’t have let them near the house had they actually been a danger.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” Nel exclaimed. “Take this too!” She tossed him a satchel which he deftly caught, emerald eyes inspecting it before glancing at her in confusion.

She shrugged, “The little captain said the letter would explain.”

Ichigo laughed, “I hope you don’t call him that to his face!”

Nelliel looked confused, “What did I say?”

Ulqui took his chance to escape, shunpo-ing to his room, letter and satchel clutched protectively against his chest.


End file.
